Revenge Triple Whammy
by Kishimojin
Summary: L has solved the case! But there's very bad news for the Whammy kids. Mello, Near, and Matt won't take it lying down! Swearing REVENGE, they set off on an adventure. But with all these teenage crushes and quarrels, it won't be easy! Crack/Yaoi COMPLETE
1. Burnin' Down the House

**Revenge ****Triple Whammy**

* * *

Here is an unreadable comedy fic based on the suggestion of Whammy-Era Matt, Near, and Mello end up on their own somehow and learn how to live, laugh, and love together in a inexplicably yaoi-themed sitcom plot.

It's suggested by/dedicated to 9shadowcat9, who has been very supportive of my mental illness (clinically bad writing).

**Very Slight MxMxN (this is your only yaoi warning) humor/romance. **

I hope you like it.

* * *

**Chapter 1: Burnin' Down the House**

* * *

On a crisp autumn day in 2007, at Whammy House, Mello was bullying children outside, while Near played alone in the empty common room.

As the recess ended no one was summoned to the headmaster's office. People were probably summoned there on unrelated matters, actually. But no one was summoned on any matter pertaining to L or Kira, especially not Mello or Near.

For a long time, this remained the case. Until one day, Mello and Near were finally summoned to the headmaster's office on matters not unrelated to L or Kira.

The two boys faced the old man sitting behind the desk with either a grab-bag of emotions including apprehension, derision, angst, anger, and chocolate-cravings, or mild to severe disinterest, depending on which one you were looking at.

Unbeknownst, or perhaps super-beknownst to everyone (it's not really clear what happened at any point in Whammy House, except probably…defiantly… some yaoi.) Mello and Near remained L's successors.

When Roger had finished telling them the news, Mello asked him to repeat it.

"What did you say, Roger?" He asked.  
"L has solved the case!" the old man smiled.  
"Oh, just like he promised me he'd do." Mello said, with mixed contentment and irritation, biting the chocolate bar he had brought with him. "Nice."

Near said nothing and continued to assemble his blank puzzle.

"I wanted you two to be the first to know."  
"Oh, well, thanks. Did he make me successor yet, by the way?"  
"Wait, there's more good news." Roger continued, ignoring the boy.  
"Eh?" Mello questioned with even more mixed emotions.  
"Whammy House is cancelled." Roger said flatly.

There was silence for a moment, as leaves blew off the trees outside.

"What did you say, Roger?" Mello questioned again, stepping closer to the desk.  
"You heard damn well what I said, you little shit. Stop asking me to repeat myself."  
"Well... I mean… what?"  
"I think that what Mello is trying to articulate, is a lack of understanding as to why Whammy house is, as you put it, 'cancelled'," Near interpolated, as he finished his puzzle.  
"Oh, Near. I'll miss you least of all," Roger said with a faraway look in his eye, "It's because I'm going to Japan to be Wattari. Our benefactor, Quillish, is dead."  
"Why do you sound so happy about that, you tool?" Mello shouted in disgust and irritation.  
"Because I won't have to take any more bullshit from spoiled, whiny freakchildren. I've inherited all of Whammy's fortune, and I get to decide the fate of Whammy House. I've decided to burn it to the ground."  
"You sick bastard!"  
"What's going to happen to us orphans? I assume we won't be burned," said Near, with a measured voice.  
"No, no. You'll all be shipped off to real orphanages. Poor ones. And crooked foster homes."  
"You can't do this to us, you dick! This is America, I have rights."  
"Mello, we're in England. We just speak this way because we're dubbed in America. And, I'm pretty sure that the institution employs some amazing lawyers, so for all practical purposes, I think you should assume that we don't have rights."  
"I have an especially poor and cold orphanage picked out for you Mello. I hope you like Siberia, I hear it's boring this time of year.

And an especially dodgy-looking special needs foster home awaits you, Near. Do try to get along with your seven foster-siblings. Many of them have been through a lot… of juvie."

"Jesus, no." Mello breathed, while Near toyed placidly with a lock of hair.  
"Iisus, nyet." Roger corrected.  
"You're having way too much fun with this." Mello returned with mixed spiteful, somewhat-amused antipathy, and ever present disgust.  
"Get out of my office," ordered Roger, as he cracked open the bottle of Glenfiddich private vintage he'd been saving.

He poured himself a stiff one and waved them out.

The boys looked at each other, unsure what to do as neither had been dismissed from any place by an elder since they got to Whammy House (I can only assume given the way that they act in the Manga introduction). But, being geniuses, they eventually figured out that they were to leave, and conceded.

They were not happy, though.

They seemed either, violently, viscously, impotently, angry, or mildly to severely disinterested, depending on which one you were looking at, as they walked through the heavy oak doors into the hallway.

Neither quite sure what to say, they simply looked at each other until they were interrupted moments later by a badly dressed redhead tooling around on a blue DSi.

"Sup, chumps?" He greeted. "Roger wanted to see me in the office."

They let him pass without a word, and without changing their haunted/unreadable expressions, or ending their stares.

"Ohhhh- kay..." The gamer whispered nervously, pushing open the oak doors. "Sup, old man." They heard before the doors closed again, blocking out all sound.

* * *

I haven't yet decided how long or good this will be. Reviews will help in that regard, as will faves, subs, PMs, and flames.

Ok, I love you, review now, thanks, bye.


	2. Revenge of the Second Chapter

Awesome, enough people seem to like this that I finished another chapter. I even have some events and an ending in mind. Go, me! Please don't be offended by anything you read here, it is self-parody.

* * *

**Chapter 2**: Revenge of the Second Chapter.

* * *

The redheaded teenager closed the ornate wooden door behind him and began walking down the hall, joined by a blonde in tight black clothes, and an albino close behind. His personality had changed from laidback and casual to nervous, stiff, and reserved.

It was partly because of what had happened in the office, but mostly because given that he has few personality traits, his character was completely up to the mood of whoever was writing him at the time.

The other two were used to this and didn't question it.

"Hello, Matt, Mello, Near," the 4th-pace brunette girl who doesn't matter said, regarding the stunned trio on her way to the headmaster's office. They nodded, and she passed without caring why they seemed out of sorts. And then she wasn't mentioned in the story ever again. Her name was… let's say, Zeno. Nice. Moving on:

The three walked down the hallway, stunned, welling with mixed emotion, or blasé, depending on which one you looked at.

"Why are you following us, nerd?" The tense, peeved, and somewhat hungry blonde asked, realizing that he and his redhead were being followed.

"Oh… Sorry… I was just going this way too."

The taller boy in goggles stopped while the others proceeded to argue, but did not intervene, or look in their general direction. Neither had said a word to him, even though he had just heard the most shocking news of his life, and was feeling a bit tongue-tied in this chapter because I didn't bother to write dialogue for him.

"Let's be clear on one thing: I hate you," the one in black said, turning to face his unwanted hoary shadow. The author then wondered if she should save calling Near an unwanted hoary shadow for a better fic, but decided to leave it in, if you are reading this.

"Understood," the smaller one in responded apathetically, "You have been very clear on this point in the past."

"You're short, creepy, weird, and ugly, and you dress like a mental patient," he snapped back. Dissatisfied with the boy's placid reaction, he pushed him into the wall with a violent thud.

"Hey," Matt made a half-hearted move to stop his friend, but realized that it never worked, and he didn't have it in him. The other two both ignored him anyway because he is not really an important character… unless you think he is hot. Which I am going to assume he is. But not in this chapter.

"Mello…" The snowy haired teen didn't flinch, save for the physical impact.

"Listen, _Near_ …" Mello's teal eyes met his foe's and found a look of boredom. His anger faded to gloom momentarily, "Jesus, I don't even know, Christ, what am I going to do?"

"It is useless to dwell on the emotional aspect of this." Near said, straitening his clothes, he continued walking as if the push never happened.

"Don't tell me not to _dwell_!"

"You asked what to do. I am only interested in addressing the situation in hopes of finding a solution, if you want to talk to me, please echo this courtesy."

"That was rhetorical. I just want to insult you, actually." Mello retorted, his anger heating up again before it was time for the next mood swing.

"Fine. If that's what you need, then by all means. Let it all out." Near said, turning. He plopped down on the floor in the middle of the hallway in front of the seething blonde, his expression a mixture of boredom and indifference.

Mello obliged, not being one to give up an invitation to insult, "Don't try to be cute, it's disgusting," he shouted quietly (somehow). He thought that had already run out of easy insults, but realized he was shooting fish in a barrel here, "We don't get along because you're so lifeless. You're ugly, and boring, and abrasive, and repetitive, and boring, and lame. I bet you're just going to go along to your little retard-fostershack and die of indecision, and probably beatings."

Near didn't say anything, but seemed unperturbed, and mildly disinterested as he drew small circles on the floor with a long, dextrous finger.

"Well?" Mello plied, "Say something."

Matt pulled out a cigarette that he wasn't allowed to light inside and chewed on it nervously. Mello was fuming.

"Is this conversation over? Not that I'm bored or anything," Near stated acerbically.

"Just remember that I hate you."

"I will."

Mello walked past Near, who sat indifferently on the floor.

Matt followed his friend. Perhaps Mello would pay some attention to him now.

"Fucking Near," were the first words out of Mello's mouth.

"Roger said I was going to a workhouse. They don't actually have workhouses anymore, do they?"

"No, Matt."

"Where did he say you were going?"

"A gulag."

"And Near's going to a foster home?"

"Near's going to Suckdick Academy. Who cares about Near, what are we going to do?" Mello shouted with rage, panic, and probably arousal, grabbing Matt's collar looking to him with wide eyes.

As Mello stared, waiting for Matt's answer, Near caught up again.

"Get out of here!" Mello shouted at him.

"I gave you a head start," Near shrugged calmly, "I can't help it if you decided to stop."

"Maybe I can't help it if you get kicked in the face."

"Guys, this is serious," Matt pleaded.

"Yes, it's clearly a very serious, and plausible, situation." Mello said, releasing Matt's collar and putting a finger to his chin in serious, fretful, contemplation. "I can't believe you're so calm about this, Queer."

"Actually, I'm furious," The diminutive prodigy answered, with the flattest, least furious tone imaginable.

"I'm fucking furious too!" a furious Mello screamed.

"I can go with that," Matt agreed.

"Who does that fucking Roger think he is?"

"Clearly, the situation we face is unfair."

"Clearly," Matt agreed.

"Well, I'm almost... 17? And I can take care of myself!" Mello said, resolute and... um, thirsty?

"That age _almost_ makes what you just said plausible," Near conceded.

"Less retarded than 'almost 15'," Matt agreed, agreeably.

"Then it's settled," Near monotoned.

"We will become teenage runaways!" Mello finished dramatically.

"This is a great idea." The other two geniuses nodded.

"I demand justice!" Mello yelled, pointing at nothing in a dramatic gesture. If you saw him pointing with the other two standing there, it would have looked dramatic, but this is prose, not an anime, so it didn't. Imagine it from the proper angle, please, and then imagine the drama.

"Yes, retribution," Near added flatty.

"WHAMMY BOYS REVENGE!" Matt yelled, even though I said he was reserved. It really serves my purpose to have him shout this now, so suck it. "Hey, where did my DSi go?" he remembered.

"idk," wrote the author, kind of running out of steam at the 1k word mark, "I guess you left it in the last chapter."

"Nice going, Matt," said either Mello or Near. I don't care which. Probably Mello. Yeah, let's go with that.

* * *

Next chapter soon, but I haven't started yet.

Ok, so what do you think of the boy's personalities as I wrote them here? And what did you think of Roger in the last chapter, btw? I kind of love his OOC act.

The two-year timeskip was kind of an arbitrary amount of time for L to solve the case, but I put it in the first chapter, and I'm going with it. Although it wouldn't exactly be outside the style of the fic to call "no, I didn't".

Anyway, how is it going so far? I have some outlining to do if I don't want to make this more than 5 chapters. I hope the twist coming up won't be too predictable or make you hate me.

Please review and motivate me.


	3. Bye bye, BITCHES

3. Bye bye, BITCHES

* * *

With a flask of whiskey in one hand, and a jug of kerosene in the other, Roger laughed as Whammy House burned to the ground.

The orphans trudged dejectedly to busses that would take them to the living assignments tailored suck major dong, both in general, and for their specific personality disorders.

If they weren't so dejected the orphans would have been impressed that Roger somehow managed to set up buses that would take some passengers to Siberia, others to Victorian workhouses or crookedly run halfway foster homes, and still others to God-knows-where, because I didn't make up places for the non-characters. But they all just let it go, as should the readers.

"Burn, bitch, burn!" shouted the drunk and out of character old man, either to the house itself or any orphans that might happen to be left inside. (There might have been a few.) He took in the cool evening air and smoke fumes with glee, and waved to the buses, as they began to drive off.

In the bus containing the most hated children, the top three geniuses sat in a single seat near the back, looking behind at their burning home with either poorly-defined characteristics, mixed wistful/angry/awestruck emotions, or mild to severe indifference, depending on which one you looked at.

"Christ, what a jerk." Mello said, chocolate bar hanging from his mouth, voice wavering with mixed emotions as they drove away.  
"I _still _don't get it," Matt, who was sitting next to him, fretted, "Are they sending me _back in time_? How can there even still be a workhouse for me to go to? Does anyone even _need _oakum?"  
"It doesn't matter, as none of us will actually be going to our proper assignments," an indifferent Near seated on the other side of Mello, leaned over to say.  
"Near, I told you not to sit with us!" Mello said, pushing Near's face into the window he sat next to.  
"I sat down first, Mello."  
"Oh," the paige-boy-coiffed chocolate fiend digressed, "I guess I told you to _shut your face_ then," he shot back with anger, some humility, and disgust.

Everything was quiet for a while, save for a few errant orphan tears from the other abandoned genius children on the bus.

"Are we ready to do a thing, or not?" Mello whispered to the others after they had been driving through the woods for quite a while. He whispered this because it was time to put the foolproof genius plan into action.  
"All right," Near nodded with apprehensive indifference, as he slid past the other two boys out of the seat.

Matt tried to hum the Mission Impossible theme, because he was feeling playful in this chapter, and wanted to do something, but one of the better kids silenced him.

Let's say it was Near this time, because he was getting up anyway.

He shuffled to the front of the bus slowly, because the feeling wearing shoes, a backpack, and coat felt unfamiliar and heavy.

He grasped the busdriver's sleeve. "I have to go to the bathroom." He said, twisting his hair with the other hand.  
"Rest stop in in 15, lad." He answered gruffly.  
"I have bladder problems, I have to go _now_," Near dryly insisted.  
"I ain't stoppin' the bus."  
"I will go right here. Right beside you. Right now. If. You. Don't. Stop. The. Damn. Bus." He said, looking at the driver with piercing, bored, whatever-color-that-is-black-maybe? eyes.

The driver, deciding that this kid in baggy jeans and a pajama top who just loudly announced his bladder problems didn't look like the type to have a lot of shame about this sort of thing, stopped the bus.

"We both have to go in the woods for reasons too!" shouted Mello calmly (somehow) and with disgust, pushing Matt past Near, out the open door.  
"We need all of our things for this!" the cigarette-chewing genius thought it best to explain why they brought their backpacks with them.

The non-genius busdriver was quick to let that, as well as Mello's incomprehensible tone of shout, go.

Near watched them disembark, twirling his hair and having second thoughts related to the quality of the plan and the pedigree of their genius-rankings. He didn't really want to be alone with Matt and Mello, in a scary, unsafe world, without any knowledge of how to do basic things like complete a financial transaction, dress himself properly, or not die of exposure.

"Oh my God, Near. You're not allowed to follow us." Mello yelled, as he popped back in, grabbed the over-thinking kid's hand, and yanked him off the bus.

"Sorry." He answered dryly, as he began to run, "I was just going this way too."  
"Hate you!" Mello shouted back, as he smirked around his chocolate bar and tore off behind Matt into the woods without releasing the albino's hand.

They ran full out for a good eight minutes, Matt in the lead, Mello stumbling slightly as Near's unsteady pace stalled him. After jogging for as long as they could hold out, they stopped to catch their breaths, and hail their escape victory with an exuberant round of high-fives and/or hair-twisting. Depending on which blablabla1kwordsagainshiti'mdone.

Back at the bus, the non-genius driver waited for another five-and-a-half hours for every single orphan (all of them, it turns out) who 'had to go do stuff in the woods' to not come back.

* * *

They're not even on their own after three chapters yet? Oh my Christ. This it gonna take a while, please tell me if I'm keeping pace, OK? I probably shouldn't have taken so long in the last chapter to establish that they want revenge (since the fic is called 'revenge') and Mello and Near love to hate each other, which everyone knows.

Anyway, thanks for the reviews.

Because they reviewed, DarkAngelJudas, mellys-girl, 9shadowcat9, and Aries07 are now my new best friends and honorary MelloMattNear-Super-BFF-Fanclub members for life (this is irrevocable, in case anyone is wondering or wants out. Too bad :P)

So fave, alert or review, and chocolate rations arrive soon in the mail.*

(*No they won't, sorry)


	4. On Our Own

**4. On our Own**

* * *

"Yes, we're on our own!" Mello shouted with mixed emotions.  
"We'll just grab some shuteye and then get some sweetass whammyboysrevenge," Matt said, stretching his arms above his head in relaxation after their run from the bus.  
"Yeah!" Mello enthused, offering another exuberant high-five to his redheaded friend, who's personality had changed to a cavalier Mello Jr. since the last chapter.  
"We are so good at being teenage runaways!" Mello stated with joy and hubris.

The three sat on the ground near some logs and began taking stock of their provisions.

"All right, I've got our chocolate rations. They are all for me. Next?"  
"I've got our smoke rations! And a laptop."  
"I've got some blankets. And Optimus Prime."  
"Fuck Optimus Prime. We don't need that shit," Mello said with disgust, anger, and disbelief.  
"Don't say that about Optimus Prime!" Near snapped with sudden rage. "I would never hurt you, Optimus Prime," he whispered covertly to the leader of the Autobots.  
"OK, Near's useless," Mello said with two emotions at once, one appropriate, the other silly, which is the joke, "Better things this round. Next."

"I have my lighter too, three prepaid mobiles, and our disguises."  
"I have some secret revenge stuff and some actual food. Bread and… food, and shit. For babies and nerds. Oh, and our_ plans_." Mello said, revealing only a peek of a black notebook marked 'TOP SECRET" from his backpack.  
"I have our passports, and my saved up allowance." Near said revealing a large zippered pocket in his pack to be bursting with money.

"Fuuuuck."  
"What's wrong, Matt?"  
"Where'd you get so much cash, Near?"  
"I saved it instead of buying expensive things (like cigarettes, chocolate, games, and clothing). I don't wear clothes or have treats, and my toys don't cost much. Except Optimus Prime. He cost £40."  
"Nice job, sheep. How much is in there?"  
"I think that I have £8000."

Near noticed that the other two looked at him with strange wide-eyed expressions and wondered how much they _thought_ they had spent on their hobbies and addictions. They were obviously calculating now.

"Well, whatever. Good job, Matt. Terrible job, Near." Mello said.

"It's cold." Near complained, "Perhaps we should start a fire?"  
"Oh, I've got something that'll warm you up, Near." Mello said seductively.

The other two froze and looked at him with either characteristics that are different than they were in the last chapter or inquisitively indifferent.

"WHISKEY!" The blonde announced.

They looked questioningly at him as he moved to bring out the bottle.

"Nice." Matt approved, taking the first swig tentatively.

The others watched his reaction.

"Eck! Tastes like a bottle of brown piss on fire," he grimaced, passing it to Mello.  
"Where did you-"  
"I stole it from that asshole, Roger." Mello explained, pulling a long drought and immediately sputtering at the taste. "What the fuck? This doesn't taste good..." He coughed before attempting another swallow.  
"Matt _just said_ it tasted like-"  
"Drink, Near." Matt interrupted, taking the bottle from Mello's hand and passing it to the smallest.

Near did not want to know what piss on fire actually tasted like.

"You're not even supposed to be here, you better drink, or we'll feed you to bears."  
"Fine," he sighed with mild disinterest.

As he proffered a small sip his seniors tipped the bottle upward and held it to his mouth, forcing him to take a large mouthful. He swallowed it without much outward reaction beyond gagging and swirling his tongue around his mouth to clear away the taste when he was done.

The others laughed at him as the bottle was passed back to Mello.

"Like it, sheep?" Mello teased.  
"How's it taste, Near?"  
"Well," He said, moderately indifferent, twisting a lock of hair and looking up at the stars, "I would say that it tastes distinctly smoky, with complex hints of vanilla, and a piquant coca finish."  
"Really?"  
"No, actually, I would say that it tastes like an awful bottle of piss which is on fire."  
"But did it warm you up, is the question," Mello pointed out.  
"It has some warming qualities, but I would rather have a fire."  
"You should have bought some stylish valenki boots with your 7k," Mello dismissed, pointing to his warm and stylish feet.  
"Why did you even buy those? You are not actually going to Siberia."

Mello shrugged, and choked on a little more of the liquor, his palette was getting used to the taste.

"I'll help you get some firewood, Shortstack." Matt offered, lighting a cigarette.  
"Thanks."

It didn't take long to collect a few sticks of dry wood.  
"How are you holding up?" Matt questioned the albino while walking a few feet back to where Mello sat.  
"Well," He answered with forced indifference, "I am worried as to our plan's chance of success."  
"That's cool. But we do have graphs."  
"Yes, I acknowledge that we have made graphs. And scatterplots."  
"And a pegboard full of revenge-clippings."  
"You are right, Matt. I feel better now."

As they finished saying those things, and walking the few feet back to where Mello sat, he called out to them.

"Hey dickholes!" he called out cheerfully. "I found out how to make the whiskey taste good. I put chocolate in it."

Mello proudly showed off his accomplishment of forcing half a bar of chocolate into the whiskey bottle by shaking it in his hand so that they could hear the slosh of the two thirds of the remaining liquid and clatter of hard chocolate pieces inside.

"Matt, is Mello drunk?"  
"Nooooooo. I'm not. God, Near. I'm just barely buzzed. Don't flip your shit, ok?"  
"What if he gets alcohol poisoning?"  
"I agree Near. Flipping your shit over here isn't going to help anything." Matt shrugged, taking Near's bundle of twigs and setting them down with his. "YOU, however. Have drank your share." He said grabbing the bottle away from Mello, to the blonde's chagrin.  
"Fine, Matt." He growled.

The redhead and albino began to build a fire, ignoring the merely-buzzed blonde.

"I don't know why I can't have the whiskey. You both didn't like it."  
"You can't because you're buzzed." Matt answered.  
"Guys. Guys, I said I was a little buzzed, but that's it. I seriously think that I am immune to alcohol."  
"No, you are evidently not."  
"Fuck. I mean… Balls, yes! I am like the ONLY person in the world immune. Call a medical journal. It is amazing. Listen to me talk. I just want to have some more because it doesn't taste that bad."

"Matt, he is actually drunk, he just doesn't perceive it." The albino whispered as Matt blew on the kindling.  
"I know," Matt murmured back, as the fire lit.  
"I can fucking hear everything, sheepy-short-shorty. I think I can hear better than normal, actually. Maybe the liquor had some effect after all."  
"Can you, I don't know, do something?" was whispered to Matt.

"Who wants to make out? Seriously. I don't care which one of you," Mello interrupted loudly.  
"Why don't _you_ do something? Honestly, what do you want me to do? Tell him to not be drunk? Suck out the whiskey?" Matt answered quietly to Near.  
"Make out with me," Mello answered, overhearing, "He wants to watch us make out. Someone make out already."  
"Alcohol metabolizes to formaldehyde in your liver, Mello." Near stated coldly.  
"I seriously don't care which one I make out with." Mello repeated, looking Near directly in the eye.

Near ignored him, his finger twisting a lock his colorless hair, and Mello found himself suddenly vexed and curious about the sheepy-short-shorty's implausible pigmentation.

"What is wrong with you, I mean like… What are you, seriously?"  
"Excuse me?"  
"Why's your hair white?" Mello questioned. "Are you an albino?"  
"Yes, Mello. I am a Native American non-ocular albino," he answered caustically, "This explains my hair, my US citizenship, and my name."

Mello paused.

"You have a name?"

The non-Native-American non-ocular albino sighed. Mello continued to blather, obstinately nearly sober.

"What the fuck kind of name is 'Mail'?" He asked Near suddenly.  
"Are you saying 'Mail'-letters or 'Male'-the-gender?"  
"Hi, I'm Mail…" Mello waved his hands around, recreating a little scene by himself, "Mail? Oh hey, the mail is here… No, It's just a guy." Mello continued the scene. "Oh, I wanted letters and packages and shit."  
"I don't know, Mello," Near rolled his eyes, "Who is named Mail anyway?"  
"Me," answered Mail, chewing his cigarette.  
"I thought you were 'Matthew'. I honestly thought that was your actual name."  
"Nope, it's Mail. Like the post."  
"Oh." Near said, inwardly wondering what the fuck kind of name that was.

"Let's get some sleep." Matt digressed.

The fire was warm, but it was still cold out. Perhaps, even with graphs, the plan would turn out have a few hitches.

At least they survived the first night, and the woods probably did not have bears.

* * *

**This fic lives in the internet and cannot go out and make friends like a person, because it is a piece of writing.**

It cannot review or fave YOU. So **review **or interact with this fic in some way (fave, comment, subscribe).


	5. Now they are in Japan

Before we begin, I have an important **Knowledge Fact** to share. Did you know albinos don't necessarily have pink eyes? I thought that they did, but I was wrong. I guess Near is a total albino. Or not. He could just have white hair because he is an anime character. Who knows or cares? Anyway, I learned a fact about albinos that I can use for the rest of my life.

===============================* The More You Know

* * *

**5. Now they are in Japan**

* * *

"Now we are in Japan!" Mello said, setting up the chapter.

The author does not know anything about Japan, and has never been to Japan. So whatever. The streets were full of geisha, blonde anime characters, and gothic lolitas.

A giant robot attacking a building with a sword made of light and smaller actual swords went ignored, except by the tourists. Because only tourists cared about that shit; the locals were too jaded. Mello made sure that none of his friends or frenimies looked up, even though one of them was super into robots, because he didn't want to look like a damn tourist.

"Will you please stop saying that?" Near sighed, becoming somewhat less indifferent as his annoyance grew.  
"What, Near?" Mello snapped, cheerful and indignant, "I'm just filling everyone here in that the current situation is that we followed Roger to Japan, found out where he's going to start working tomorrow, and we're going to get our revenge."  
"Yeah, but you have been saying that since we got off the plane," Matt added drowsily. "You have, pretty much, been giving inane play-by-play since you were drunk that time in the woods."  
"Well, you guys just didn't really _engage_, ya know?" Mello answered with a shrug, "And I would say that you're doing a pretty terrible job now. I am not even going to bother to emote much until Matt's personality changes again."

The two shorter, better geniuses paused to watch Matt's personality.

"I'm pretty jet-lagged, guys..." He said, becoming rather annoyed by their creepy stares, and they wondered if it was a personality change or just a mood-swing.

It was actually just a mood-swing, so they kept watching him boringly.

It was a good time for the readers to find out what someone much better was doing.

* * *

"Ryuzaki? Are you feeling better yet?" Matsuda asked with concern.

L was sitting in front of a wall of large monitors, watching screens full of static. There was no answer.

"I brought you some funeral cake," Matsuda offered.  
"No thank you." L said listlessly, holding out his hand to receive the cake anyway.

He didn't turn his chair or look at the other detective. He just sighed at the sight of the sad little piece of funeral cake on the paper plate.

Dirty plates encrusted with the remnants of funeral cake, regular cake, and funeral peach cobbler, were covering the console in front of him. No one had cleared them away because his beloved butler was dead.

"He was like Alfred to me," he sighed again, with a mouth full of cake. An ill-advised move as it left him splashing some crumbs on the monitor directly in front of him.  
"Uh... I don't know who that is," the young officer said uncomfortably with stubborn, polite cheer.  
"Batman's butler."  
"Uh..."  
"Batman?" The pale detective's eyes snapped wide open, as he tensed.

The police officer shuffled uncomfortably.

"You don't know about Batman?" L chided angerily as he pushed his chair around to face the dark-haired man and stare up creepily at him.  
"Is that some kind of robot for the children's shows in whatever country you're from?" Matsuda asked, kind of wanting to leave.  
"Batman is not a robot! Well, maybe in issue #234 he was replaced with a robot, but the Dark Knight is flesh and blood. Just like Alfred... I mean Wattari."  
"Erm... OK."  
"Batman can _die_, Matsuda," L whispered darkly, standing up and slouching next to the police-detective-man-guy (Matsuda).  
"Ok, Ryuzaki." A very uncomfortable Matsuda hushed, trying to calm him down. L wouldn't have it though.  
"He is a fragile human being behind the mask. Not like superman" L scoffed, "But Batman is strong, Matsuda! Batman pushes on, and punishes criminals! Even though it's hard, and he is dark and alone, and he doesn't have any parents."  
"I have to go now, Ryuzaki." Matsuda segued. "The investigation is over, and you told me ten minutes ago to put my shit in a box and get the hell out, but first get you another piece of funeral cake."  
"And now I'm telling you: I'M BATMAN."  
"Maybe Light cares about Batman..."

As if summoned by hack writing, a handsome young Japanese man entered the control room.

"Matsuda, what the hell are you still doing here?" he said, "I thought L told you put your shit in a box and get ..."  
"OKbye!" Matsuda said, not bothering to pick up his box of police-guy shit as he ran the hell out of there.

"How are you feeling, L?" Light asked, putting a hand on his shoulder.  
"Like Batman," He said flatly, looking at Light with his large, blank eyes.  
"That is to be expected." Light answered gracefully, not knowing or caring about who that was, or what his lover was talking about half of the time. "But don't worry. Your replacement butler will be here soon!"

L smiled a bit at that, taking another happy bite of the sad, sad funeral cake.

"You're right, Light. Then we can get back to work."  
"I can't wait, L." Light said, taking a seat at the console.  
"Ah, Light-o." Ryuzaki sighed, snapping out of his daze somewhat, "You always know just what to say. I'm glad that I took you as my protégé."

"Stop rhyming."

* * *

"Mello," Near's voice trailed off from monotone to slightly plaintive, "when you said you were going to get us a hotel to sleep in, I specifically asked you that you not find some horrible, kitch Japanese Love Hotel."  
"Yes, you did ask me that." Mello agreed lightly.

Matt closed the door to the kitchy red and pink room behind them, yawned, and threw off his backpack.

"This is _obviously_ a Japanese Love Hotel." Near continued, looking around indifferently.  
"That is why the guy looked at the three of us so weird." Matt realized sleepily.  
"A Love Hotel is a terrible headquarters, Mello."  
"Maybe you should learn to do a goddamn thing for yourself, Near," Mello answered dismissively, "Then you could have picked the headquarters."

They stood for a moment inside the door having another staring contest.

"Is this place paid by the hour?" Near finally asked.  
"Of course."

"Well let's get to it then." Near sighed indifferently.

The other two looked at each other, but before they could think, Mello was suddenly thrown the top blanket from the heart-shaped waterbed.

"Matt can sleep on the bed, since he's the jet-lagged one, Mello, you sleep on the floor, and I'll take..." Near tried to locate the probable least filthy object in the room, "this chair."  
"Near, I hate you," said Mello, in order to get the last word and soak up some more attention for himself.

Matt plopped down on the large bed, drifting off before he could hear them argue. As the haze of sleep closed in, he realized that he had always been playing games or asleep while the other two actually planned the revenge. While Mello and Near were planning they were mostly just arguing or kind of cackling oddly, so he had no idea what their revenge was actually going to be.

He remembered the revenge-file Mello had given him. Escape was the first step. Following Roger to Japan was the other first step. They had somehow found out where he was going, although he wasn't given any detail. But the next step on the briefing that Mello had given him was the word 'Revenge' underlined a few times. (It wasn't a very good file.)

Obviously, Roger would lead them right to L, and he would help them. But as for Roger's comeuppance, he wasn't really sure. He sighed a few times in his dream, (Since he was already asleep, as I have stated above.) wishing that he was a better detective.

He napped for four hours in the kitch and kind of unsanitary love hotel room, until he was awakened by a scream.

* * *

Ok, that was not a very good chapter. And, as I didn't promise, this is obviously going to be more than 5 chapters. These chapters are getting longer too. I have to tone it down.

What do you think so far? What do you think of L and Light here? Go ahead an make suggestions for what you wan't Matt's personality to be in the next chapter!


	6. Not a Very Funny Chapter

**I know from the stats that this chapter is where I lose a lot of people, but it does pick back up again.**

Before the chapter begins I have another Knowledge fact to share: The name 'Mail' is apparently pronounced 'Mile'. Like '**Mail-y Cyrus**', or '**Mail-s Davis**' and not like "**Mail** those letters and packages and shit", according to the DN wiki.

According to me, everyone thinks the same thing when they are reading the name 'Mail' and always will. This is not a very good fact, and I don't think that I will use it in my life much at all.

* * *

**6. Not a very funny chapter.**

* * *

"God, I hate orphans," Roger said for no reason as he rode the elevator down to the hotel lobby.

"I'm establishing character!" The author thought to herself.  
"This is a pile of shit even by fanfiction standards," replied practically everyone.  
"OK, fine. I'll leave off. Perhaps an orphan killed his dog. I don't know. He's not a really a sympathetic character in this. Let's all just let it go."

"I'm Roger," said Roger, now at L's building and even more poorly-written. He's reporting for his first day of work, and feeling pretty good about not having to take care of bitchy, spoiled, genius orphans anymore. Being Wattari is going to be like being James Bond, he's totally sure. Why else would he need sniper training, a tuxedo, a genius IQ, and a pilot's license like the last Wattari?

"He wasn't really in the loop about the whole L/Wattari situation," the author explained terribly, "because cannon doesn't say anything about it either way, and I have decided that it is much better if he doesn't know that-"

"Hey, you're my new butler," L interrupted the author herself somehow to tell this to Roger because he wanted to get this horrible chapter all over with. The fact that being Wattari isn't a very good job is the whole point of the scene.  
"How did he do that?" She wondered, putting her writing in quotation marks to ruin the fourth wall some more in an unfunny way, but L stared creepily at the audience and just said,  
"Because I'm L."

Roger, shocked at the revelation that his life now sucks worse than before, ripped a scream for about as long as it takes you to read to the end of the scene transition.

* * *

Oh crap, it's right here. Actually, that wasn't very long. Imagine him screaming for ten minutes.

* * *

I'll wait.

* * *

This scene is is about Near, Mello, and that other guy.

The other guy, Matt, decided that he was going to be a spy and sneak a look at the Top Secret plan. He had probably always wanted to be a spy, for all anyone knows.

However, when he woke up, he wouldn't get the chance.

"AUUGHH!" screamed Near, uncharacteristically loud, waking the others.  
"What the fuck?" Mello drawled sleepily.  
"There's a... Ugh... Used condom... between the cushions," he croaked, pointing at the chair with completely non-indifferent disgust and fear, "OH, God! I touched it!"  
"Oh, sick." Matt looked away from the gross object now on the floor. (The condom, not Near.)

Near went somehow paler, "Oh, Lord. Who would hide that there? I could have a sex-disease."  
"Shut up, Near," Mello sighed, "You already have sex-disease. It's called," Mello trailed off, trying to think of a good insult, "'You Suck'?" It wasn't a very good burn, but this isn't a very good chapter.  
"Mello," the smallest shrieked angrily, "This is all your fault. Why did you bring me to a filthy sex hotel?"  
"No one wanted you here," Mello snorted insincerely.

Matt watched on as Near displayed more emotions than he'd ever seen from him.

"I didn't want to be here," Near pouted indifferently, as he took took off his possibly-infected shirt and looked for his bag.

"Yeah, now would probably be a good time to tell you I lost your stuff at the airport or something," Mello said with embarrassment and anger.  
"But I asked you to carry it because I was tired."  
"Shouldna been too much of a weakling to carry it yourself."

"Mello! All of our money was in there!" Matt shouted.  
"Yeah..." Mello shrugged with smug embarrassment.  
"Optimus Prime was in there..." Near whispered helplessly.  
"Fuck that shit," Mello answered.  
"I hate this trip! I hate you!" Near screamed, suddenly full of emotion again.  
"Mello, what kind of genius are you?" Matt wondered aloud, rubbing his temples, "You're always doing dumb things."  
"I've had enough of this, I'm leaving!" Near shouted as he grabbed Mello's pack to replace his own and left hurriedly, without really thinking this through.

"Yeah, that'll work out for you," Mello said with disgust and mild indifference as the door slammed, "I bet you don't even know how to use a crosswalk," he laughed to himself, " You'll be back. And me and Matt'll be fine without you."  
"Hey, who says I'm just going to follow you?" Matt protested.  
"Because I am your only friend and you are in love with me. Duh."  
"Oh my God. You're such a dick!"  
"You love it," Mello answered as the door slammed for a second time.

Matt still wanted the 'Top secret' plans that Near now had, and Mello's bitchy attitude pretty much sealed it. Matt was out of there.

Alone and served, Mello suddenly felt lonely, depressed, and hungry. He missed his friends and frenemies, but was also angry at them for leaving him, he was also pretty amused by the things he said to Near, and aroused because why not.

He started to think that all of these emotions weren't really doing him any good, and his dickery had driven his only friends and frenimies away. Perhaps it was time for a change.

* * *

**This fic loves the reviews you all gave it. ****It gives all of your reviews 5-star reviews of its own.**

Thanks, LittleFanGirl, NellaKeehlRiver, 9shadowcat9, stella1107, andysanime, Aries07, mellys-girl, and DarkAngelJudas. I somehow have two pages of reviews, and that's better than any story that I have ever done.


	7. A Much Better Chapter

**7. A Much Better Chapter**

* * *

Near sometimes got sick of being Near. Especially fanfic!Near. Regular Near was a genius and had a lot of complex personality traits. But nobody liked them because that is hard to write, so in fics he was usually either a monotone robot/social retard; Hannibal Lecter; or blushing, shy, abused uke. He was obviously the first one (the robot-one) in this, but he was equally sick of all of the others. Switching personalities was kind of Matt's thing, but he decided to switch anyway... To someone else's personality.

He couldn't switch to Matt's personality, because that could be whatever the author makes up using smoking and videogames as the only anchors. It could even be his old personality, which would be a cruel twist of fate, but not interesting at all, so he just decided to go with the only other person he knew: Mello.

"Why can't I be the jerk to move the plot forward?" he thought aloud, now wearing Mello's clothes from the bag he stole on the way out of the hotel room. In his tight leather, he finally felt like he fit in as a white-haired anime character.  
"Are you asking me?" A random geisha or gothic Lolita asked.  
"Oh, sorry. Just thinking aloud," he apologized. Then continued, forcing himself not to look at a particularly awesome robot, "What is this thing we're on?"  
"You mean the crosswalk?" she quirked, "That's how you cross the street."  
"Woa," he gasped. "I'm totally doing it."  
"Doing what?"  
"Using it," he answered, unhelpfully, "All by myself."  
"Uhh. You're hot and everything; like, with that shirt and all, but… could you not talk to me anymore?"  
"I'm just thinking aloud," he said brushing her off.  
"You're really a jerk, you know that?"  
"You think so? Already?" he wondered, thinking how wonderful it was to have already made a random stranger angry at him like they always were with Mello, "Thank you!" He sighed with genuine delight, fear, and interest.

Near hugged the stunned and unimportant geisha/gothic Lolita non-character and ran across the next crosswalk feeling all kinds of emotions. He took a swig of Mello's left over chocolate whiskey from the knapsack. It still tasted like brown piss on fire, but he pretended it didn't.

"Piquant," he observed, devilishly, cheerfully, and full of disgust. "Piquant as shit!"

* * *

Matt was sick of being pulled in two directions by the more interesting characters, and not knowing the plan. He was not a second-tier character. And I don't mean in the sense that he is not really a character, because that shit's getting worn out. He didn't want to go through that again. He just wanted to know the plan. And to be a consistently-written character. But I only have time for one of those things in this fic.

After leaving the hotel to get away from Mello and find Near and the plans, he lit up a cigarette, and paused to change his personality.

"Oh my god!" he said, different from the way he was in the last chapter. "I just let everything fall apart in the last chapter!"

Being a genius, he calculated that neither Mello or Near would resolve the fight, they could hold a grudge for YEARS, no matter how self-destructive and harmful to their goals.

"That means I have to fix it."

* * *

Mello didn't want to be in the 'sick-of' theme. He was feeling depressed. Just depressed, he didn't even bother to have more than one emotion.

Was this why he was always second? Because he treated people as expendable and put himself on a pedestal above others? He was dangerously close to introspection when he realized that there was no money for the hotel room, and that he should defiantly break out now.

"Why didn't those guys just listen to me and do what I say? I'm everyone's favourite character!" he sulked, creeping down the fire escape. "All I want is to be number one, but everyone keeps throwing obstacles at me!"

Just then his pants caught and tore on the rusted metal of the ladder.

"WTF, Life? I'm just asking for a break here!" he shouted at the sky.

Alone in a stinking alley, surrounded by garbage cans, he realized that he was alone in the city with no money, no friends or family in the world, and torn pants. He was unable to stop his genius mind as he finally hit the conclusion he'd been avoiding, that most of these things were kind of his fault.

He was terrible at being a teenage runaway.

* * *

"Near! There you are!" Matt shouted happily, "God, it was easy to find you, were you just going in a circle around these four crosswalks the whole time?"  
"Near what?" the white haired anime character said, turning around.  
"Oh crap, Kaworu Nagisa."  
"Over here, Matt!" Near yelled, stopping Matt from making another out-dated reference. "You, dickhole," he drunkenly added. "Why the fuck would I go around the same four crosswalks over and over again? I'm a genius so I pretty much figured that shit out immediately."

"Near, get over here and tell me the fucking plan!" Matt called back.  
"Make me!" Near said, running in the other direction, "I don't take orders from you!"  
"Near, what's gotten into you?"  
"I'm a cocksure asshole from now on!"  
"Well, I'm everybody's frigging mom for the rest of this chapter. Get your ass over here, mister. You don't have a middle name, but you can bet I'd be breaking it out for this occasion!"  
"OH, are you going to give me a spanking?" he stopped.  
"WTF?" Matt yelled, tripping over the short albino Mello.  
"That's right, I hit on everyone now too!"

"You two are ridiculous," came a flat, emotionless voice from the alley.

"Mello! Thank Christ, two birds with one stone," Matt sighed with motherly relief.

Mello popped his head out of the alley dumpster, his face a mask of severe indifference.

"Why are you eating out of bins, Mello?" Near asked with several misplaced emotions at once.  
"Mello, you're not even starving. It's only been, like, just a few hours since you ate." Matt chafed.

The blonde just shrugged and impassively sank to one knee on the ground in the filthy alley, "He took my chocolate rations," he tonelessly accused, pointing a listless finger toward the white-haired dopplegänger.

"Mello, we were looking for you." Matt soothed.  
"No we weren't," Near smugged with drunken, cheerful abrasiveness, "Matt was chasing me. You were just here… I hate you."  
"Near is drunk," Mello observed.

Near answered by holding the bottle to his lips, tipping it straight up and swallowing thrice in succession, while looking Real Mello straight in the eye.

"Barely buzzed," he smirked. He tried to wink, but he was missing the coordination for it, so it was just a regular blink.

"If Near hates me so much, then why is he acting like me?" The sloppy, taller, blonder Near smirked back, curling his long hair around his finger indifferently.  
"Because… you blondie, blonde… blonde douchbag," he slurred, "everyone loves you!"

He began to recreate a little scene by himself, "Oh, hey, Mello beat us up! Funny. Let's go talk to Mello later so he can beat us again. And then let's be mean to Near, unless we need homework help, because he is quiet and doesn't have any friends and we are jealous of how smart he is!"  
"Oh, Near," Matt attempted to comfort, but his soothing hand was quickly slapped away.  
"Oh my God, Mello! We're fangirls," Near continued, waving his hands, "We like you even though you do terrible things, and we don't like Near because he looks creepy! Mello can get away with anything he wants… Mello is pretty."  
"Was that last part the fangirls, or you talking?" Mello asked placidly, still dexterously coiling his long blonde hair.

Near stared angrily transfixed for a moment, then just drunkenly forgot what he was talking about and asked, "Can I touch your hair?"

"Near does not know what it is like to be Mello," the monotone blonde answered, "Mello doesn't think things through and gets himself and others into trouble all of the time. It hurts Mello the most when his actions get innocent people in trouble just for trusting him."  
"Aw, Mello," Matt's hand was quickly slapped away again.  
"Near is the one who takes cautious and mitigated risks, and patiently fixes things when they go bad."  
"Hey!" Near observed loudly, blinking his sore, watery eyes, "You mean like how we're opposite-doing now!"

"Damn, you're dunk, Near," Mello rolled his eyes.  
"Nooooooo! Fuck you losers, I'm great."

"Near!" Matt scolded, tired of being ignored, "stop being a dick! "And Mello," he yelled at the seated orphan, "start being a dick again!"  
"Oh my God, you nerd," Mello brusked, "calm the fuck down!"  
"Good start, Mello," Matt encouraged.  
"Well I…" Near proclaimed, "I.. don't feel well," he trailed off.  
"Check him for alcohol poisoning," smirked Mello.

"I hate you, Mello," Near gagged, as the blonde boy held him up gently.

Mello tried to think of something amusing to say back, but the well-dressed albino started to vomit on the ground; Matt hoped that this part of the adventure had come to a close; Near puked up most of the horrible chocolate whiskey. Everybody had learned important lessons about whatever.

"Look, I've got our disguises," Matt told the others, "Let's just put them on, and tell me the plan, and then do the plan. I'm pretty anxious to just get our revenge and get on with our lives. And I assume that the plan covers what we will do for the rest of our lives as destitute, stateless orphans."  
"It sure as fuck does!" the real Mello shouted with disgust and enthusiasm, as he changed behind a dumpster into a yellow jumpsuit with a black stripe on the side and brandished a katana.

Near straightened the buttons on his suit and handed Matt a pair of shorts and a wig.

"Ok, what are you supposed to be?" Matt asked, bemused, "Also, I think that you've confused disguises with Halloween costumes, but whatever."  
"I'm Mr. Blonde," Near told him flatly, combing back his hair with gel. "We are disguised as 'every Quentin Tarantino movie'. I am also John Travolta's character from Pulp Fiction. Mello wanted to be Mr. Blonde as well, but he is just The Bride."

"That's right! Because we're going to **_KILL L_**," Mello yelled shoutilly.

"_WHAT_?" Matt screamed dramatically.

"Yeah…" Mello apologized, "I wanted us all to be Kill Bill characters, but then Near said that you and him would have to be our own antagonists, because we can't all be The Bride, but I said that's fine, because I also want to be Lucy Liu, but then he brought up Mr. Blonde from Reservoir Dogs and I was like-"

"I MEAN ABOUT KILLING L, NOT THE COSTUMES! ARE YOU SERIOUS?"  
"Um… yes? Duh."  
"L is the reason for our problems, Matt," Near added.  
"L picked a different successor, Matt. Someone who's not any of us."  
"We deduced that this was the case when Roger made his plan. Why else would Whammy's death mean that L's need for a successor was void?"  
"We are going to Kill L, then Roger, and then the mystery successor and take their places!" Mello shouted, practicing katana stances.  
"I… I can't believe you guys… You're… like, evil or something…"

The others looked at him unnervingly with their cracked-out-intimidating/creepy-horrormovie-kid stares. Then, at the same time, began to laugh uproariously, for way too long, and then way, WAY too long.

"No, no, no," Near trailed off…  
"Stupid Matt," Mello wiped away a tear of laughter.

"We're morally ambiguous!" They said in unison. "That's just how this series is!" They continued, also in unison.

"Oh my god…" Matt blanched.  
"Now let's get you a tourniquet," Mello laughed irreverently, putting his arm around his redheaded friend, "You're Cherry Darling from Grindhouse."  
"Guns are not legal in Japan, so we have another katana for your leg," Near explained blankly.  
"What do you need a katana for?" Matt snapped.  
"Do you watch _any_ movies, Matt?" Mello asked peevishly.  
"Of course I do. But you can't base all these jokes on specific, old-timey, obscure stuff I haven't seen and expect me to get them. Since when do you two watch movies together?"  
"We did not. We watched them separately," Near dryly explained.  
"Let's just write 'gun' all over his thighs with sharpy," Mello sighed.

* * *

I am not sorry about all the Quentin Tarantino references. :-| It is your own fault for not watching all of his movies.

Cherry Darling has a gun for a leg. The joke was they are going to cut off his leg. This won't happen and also won't ever be mentioned again, that is not the cliffhanger. Kill L is the cliffhanger.


	8. Roger

**8. Roger**

* * *

Matt and Mello were now in another alley, but this one was much classier. It was the alley behind L's secret headquarters. The dumpsters stank of intrigue, excitement, mouldy cake, and some Near-vomit. (He really couldn't hold his liquor.) The other alley in the last chapter just smelled like fish, failure, and a lot of Near-vomit.

Matt's mobile rang, and he answered shrewdly.

"'Sup."  
"Two people have left the building," a placid voice told Matt through the phone. "One of them is L. I think that is the successor with him."  
"Awesome, what does he look like?" Mello interjected, leaning head-to-head with Matt so that he could hear.  
"I bet he looks like a complete tosser," said Matt, not expecting Near to continue this pointless line of discussion to indulge Mello.  
"Oh, that's perfect," said Near, wryly.  
"Why?"  
"He looks like you, Matt."  
"No way."  
"He is an older teenager, with brown hair in the same style as yours. And he is wearing fashion-clothes."  
"WTF is 'fashion-clothes', you freak? What style?"  
"Nice clothing. From stores, like you and Mello have."  
"Mello and I have very different styles," he lectured, "and your clothes come from stores too!"  
"Roger brings me my clothes."  
"He got them from a store."  
"This isn't the time, dorks!" Mello snapped, impatiently snatching the phone away from Matt.

"It doesn't matter what he is wearing, or that Near is a retard about clothes!" he told Matt, "How _hot is he_, Near?"

Matt paused to give Mello a WTF-look.

"I would say… a nine," Near answered seriously.  
"Woa."

Matt snatched the phone back, glaring at Mello. "Ok, enough about the successor gossip. I'll get us in through the back, you keep following those guys. Try not to 'sperg out too much and keep a low profile."  
"Find out the dick's name," Mello added, "…Near, wait, am I a nine?"

Matt looked blankly at him as he hung up.

"I kind of like your new personality, Matt."  
"Don't get used to it," Matt said, businesslike, as he opened up his laptop and then started up his hacking program that hackers use. "After this, it's back to being a clueless R-tard," he sighed.

Matt was an awesome hacker in this chapter so 3D crap was literally spinning _all over_ the screen. Ones and zeros were just flying around, and fat streams of computery-looking text were streaming down the screen way too fast to read, like the flopsweat of the fever dreams of a million terrible screenwriters hysterically thrashing and struggling to grasp even the very basics of how computers or common sense actually work.

He would intermittently blurt things that made no sense, like, "Now I just have calculate these prime factor hex codes to crack the Fourier-systems, un-secure these quadrant matrices, batten down these Shamir Vectors..."

These were totally unintelligible to Mello, totally unnecessary to say, and also didn't actually mean anything. Occasionally he would say something that meant something though,

"The security footage from yesterday is looping so we won't be seen, but there's a chance that someone will figure it out."

Or,

"Looks like the main control room is right on the main level, but it's got a secondary lock off the main system. There's also a kitchen, a lobby, and storage."

After about 55 seconds, or several hours less than you would think it takes to hack into the security system of an impenetrable building, he announced, "annnnnd… We're in!" Then the metal door behind them popped open with a popping sound.

"OK, Mello. Before we go in and I possibly change personalities again, can you please tell me that you and Near thought this through, and that triple-homicide is really the only way?"  
"Yes, I can tell you that," Mello answered with blithe distain and self-amusement.  
"God Damn it, can you tell me TRUTHFULLY?"  
"We've come too far to turn back now," He answered seriously, looking pretty, stupid and also pretty stupid, still dressed as Uma Thurman in Kill Bill.  
"Mello…" Matt said, also seriously.  
"Where else are we going to go? What else is there for us? We've been preparing to become L all of our lives!" Mello continued emotionally, "How could they take it away and treat us like trash? Aren't you burning with revenge?"

Matt sighed and closed his laptop, tucking it away in his backpack.

"Mello, I have to tell you, before we do anything stupid, these days on our own have been, well, the best time of my life. And-"  
"But you've still got your rage on, right?" Mello shouted questioningly.  
"Mello, let me finish. We've got something to live for! This isn't some joke about making out drunk, or 'nines', or love hotels! I'm in-"  
"You're in?" Mello interrupted, nervously, happily, and burning with revenge, "Awesome!"

Matt sighed and gave up as Mello darted happily and nervously into the building like a retarded, yellow gazelle. The redhead wondered what his problem was and worried about Near, who they left in another part of the chapter, totally 'sperging out and ruining the 'plan'. (Such as it was.)

* * *

Roger was settling into his new quarters, sitting in an armchair with a glass of brandy, and brushing off the sleeve of his jacket with a lint roller. You know, classy stuff, like old English dudes do.

"Wattari, this is L," a scrambled voice called from the speaker in the wall.  
"What is it, L?" he sighed.  
"Bring me some cake. Chocolate cake."  
"L, did Yagami-san and yourself not take your leave but ten minutes ago to eat cake in a café?"

There was a pause, but then the scrambled voice cracked, "That was a test, and you failed. The real Wattari would have offered to bring me some cake when I mentioned it. I've been waiting ten minutes."

Roger sighed and put down his glass, "Right away, L."

He got up and angrily trudged off to the kitchen to find some cake, pretty sure that something was up.

Since he reasoned that something was probably amiss, he knew that he would have to be extra careful when he reached the control room. Perhaps he would finally get the chance to use some of the Krav Maga and Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu that he had been required to learn in preparation to be L's butler, while the many brats under his charge were calculating Shamir Vectors, and whatnot.

As his steps echoed on the sterile floor of the large industrial kitchen, he became more on edge. Even though he knew the control room to be triple-locked, L probably had many enemies, and as Wattari, he knew that he would always have to be alert.

As he opened the walk-in fridge something blunt hit the back of his head and he was shoved inside.

"That's it?" Mello whined as Matt braced the door shut. A dented can of condensed milk rolled slowly away.  
"Yeah," Matt winked, "Nice and clean."  
"But he was your guy! That was so anticlimactic, and we still have to come back and kill him later."  
"Can we just hold off on the killing for a while?"  
"You're right! It IS more dramatic to get them all together and kill them all at once. That way we can explain how they wronged us and how they're going to die!"  
"Mello, that's terri-"  
"Morally ambiguous!" he snapped.

* * *

A waitress near the end of her shift was making a coffee round when she noticed a short man with slicked hair saunter in, already sipping a soft drink. He was wearing a business suit, sunglasses, and looked to be about twelve years old. He sat at a table by himself, out of the way, near the door. When she came to him he said one word: coffee. She continued to make her rounds, but kept an eye on him while he took a call on his mobile.

"Yes?  
- They're just talking.  
- Yes. Super low.  
- No, I did not _anything_ out.  
- Understood, I'll make them come back.  
- Bye. Wait - While I'm here, tell me, what do you think the song 'Like a Virgin' by Madonna was about? Was it about love? Or big-  
- What? It's my character.  
- Well you really _should_ watch them; they are good movies.  
- Is Mello still dressed like The Bride?  
- Then, no, I won't.  
_- Fine_.  
- Bye."

She didn't understand any of it and was soon distracted by her two least favourite customers, a handsome young man and his picky foreigner friend who ordered several slices of cake for himself.

While pouring coffee for the delightful and surely-in-no-way-possibly-evil young man, she could feel spine-chilling ghost-eyes boring into the back of her head. She turned just in time to catch the disturbing, grey stare and stood transfixed, still pouring coffee. He seemed too pale and creepy, he was defiantly some kind of ghost – or at least a foreigner. Possibly a pervert.

"Ow!" She heard from the seat beside her. And then, "You idiot! Look what you've done!"

She turned around and saw the brunette trying to wipe stains from his overflowing coffee cup out of his pants.

"I'm sorry, sir!" She apologized, thanking Japanese God that the coffee was not that hot.  
"Light, it's ok," his friend soothed, between bites of cake.

The waitress quickly looked behind again, and noticed that the strange ghost had disappeared completely. She knew that he had been real, though, because strangely, he left a tip.

"Let's get out of here, Ryuzaki." The younger man sighed, giving up on his ruined khakis.

* * *

"Do you think he'll be ok in that fridge for a couple of hours, Mel?"  
"Yeah, it looks like you did a good job locking him in, and it's, like 5°C."  
"Can you promise not to use your sword on the next one too?"  
"Yeah, no problem. The successor's Near's guy anyway. L belongs to me," Mello said, posing dramatically.  
"Is that thing even real? Do you know how to -"

Matt's phone suddenly rang again.

"Near."  
"They're on their way. The successor's name is Light, and I ruined his pants, so he'll probably go to his room to change. Find out where that is and go there. Mello can let me in and then have his showdown with L."  
"... How did you ruin his pants?"  
"Near, don't give so many orders at once," Mello whined with petulance, annoyance, and disgust, "I am in charge too. Wait, I am more in charge of this than you are."  
"Sounds good." Near monotoned, with a loud sip of his drink.

Mello hung up the phone, even as Matt still held it, receiving another incredulous WTF-look from the redhead who was just about to change personalities.

"Ok, let's go," Mello said, ending the longest chapter yet.

* * *

**I apologize for the lateness and crappyness of this chapter.**

Since I got to moving the plot along the 'jokes' are mostly situational at this point. And movie references.

I guess the references need some explaining. Reservoir Dogs opens in a Cafe where the criminals argue over whether to leave a tip and establish character by talking about 80s songs. Mello is dressed as a former assassin known as The Bride from Kill Bill. (Because he is going to Kill L). Matt is a zombie killing stripper from a movie that doesn't matter. Because he is not a real character in Death Note. (Matt: GIVE IT A REST, PLEASE!)

I think that I can wrap this up in three chapters, if I follow my outline.


	9. Light

**9. Light**

* * *

Matt was making his way to a chamber on the 17th floor, Light Yagami's suite, which is where Near ordered him to go and wait in the last chapter. The last chapter was a year ago. Matt took a very long time to do this, because his personality for this chapter is a big, retarded screwup, just as he had predicted in the last chapter when he was a super-shrewd brainiack hacker.

The author wonders if the semi-abandonment of her fanfic could be passed off as part of the fanfic parody theme, pulled off with Andy Kaufman-like obstinacy, but then realizes that nearly everyone is smarter than her, including fanfic readers, and it wouldn't work.

'FML,' she thinks. Then sighs apologetically, without actually apologizing.

While that happened, Near spastically raced back from the coffee shop to L's secret building ahead of the marked duo, meeting Mello at the hitherto hacked rear entrance.

Mello, still dressed in his Uma Thurman yellow jumpsuit, opened the door to a sweating albino nonchalantly sipping a large cup of soda.

"How far ahead are you?" Mello queried with, like, seven emotions, I guess – I don't know. I'm still getting into this.

"Not far, they'll be coming in around front in less than five minutes. Are you prepared?" Near replied, in that way that he does.

"Heck, yeah." Mello enthused, hastily leading Near to the elevators, "Matt's execution of Roger was brutal, by the way."

"Oh yeah?" Near sipped his drink in boredom, clearly unconvinced, "Too bad I missed something that so unmistakably happened."

"Yeah… well," Mello rolled his eyes, with hostility and amusement, "Hopefully your thing with successor-douche will be less of a total shit-show."

"So... Roger really isn't dead. That means there's been a change in plans."

"Yeah, Matt put him in the fridge. But it's much better this way we can explain to him how he wronged us and how he's going to die. What do you say?"

"I'd say you better get back to the control room," Near stated, stepping inside the elevator. "And that I need to recalculate our chance of success. Can I have my things, please?"

Mello handed Near the backpack containing the secret revenge stuff and the top secret plans. "Don't tell me what to do, Near," he snapped compliantly, on his way to the control room to initiate his showdown with L.

As Near pressed the button Mello turned back, unable to let his hated albino rival get away without further retort, "Oh, by the way, make sure to sip that stupid soda, and act like a retard, and sit like a mental patient while you do your thing!" since he was way more the leader of this show.

"Sounds good." Near monotoned as the elevator doors closed.

"Fuck that guy." Mello sighed with affectionate exasperation on his way.

Inside the elevator, Near checked the contents of the bag for the straightrazor and nylon ropes he needed for his part of the plan, then pulled out Mello's black notebook marked "TOP SECRET". He really did need to refactor his revenge equations since Roger was still alive.

He sat down on the floor like a mental patient to work on his calculations.

* * *

"You know, Light-o." L said, as the pair walked back home.

"Rhyming…" Light snapped to reminded him.

"Yes, well. Light-o-kun, aside from this incident with your pants, and my little problem with my butler, I do feel as though we've reached a resolution in our lives."

As they came upon the large glass building Light queried back, "How is that?"

"With the Death Note destroyed, your name cleared as Kira, our relationship, and you training as my successor, I have to say that I've never been happier."

"That's easy for you to say, these pants were Gucci," Light complained. "But I know what you mean. It certainly is a shame that Misa Amane turned out to be Kira, though."

"Yes… a shame." L agreed.

They both laughed uncomfortably, then uproariously, and headed inside.

* * *

This was bad, Near deduced, as he realized that their previous calculations off, specifically a part that was written in girlish handwriting with skulls and crucifixes dotting the margins. Revenge(L,Suc,Roj | Rog) were off for P { F(Rog) = 1}, which meant that F(Rog) = 0 couldn't even be calculated until he found the error.

He was a bit pissed off when he met up with Matt and noticed that he was more poorly written than normal, even in comparison to other fanfics, because the author kind of sucks and is really out of practice. She's just going to gloss over the dialogue between these two characters for now, because they don't have a lot of comic chemistry.

Near pulled a decorative wooden armchair from its place tucked against the wall further out into the room and indicated that it was what they were going to tie Light to so that they could murder him.

"You'll be the one providing all of the physical force because, well," Near just gestured to his body, indicating his Urkel-esque stature.  
"Right," Matt agreed hesitantly, aware of his own gardenhose arms and complete lack of follow-through in the last chapter.  
"Right now, I'm unsure of the plan as well, honestly," Near said in a thoughtful way, leafing through the black notebook again, "The calculations are off, but I'm not sure where. I can barely read half of this handwriting."  
"Let me see," Matt held out his hand, "I can usually make out Mello's loopy scrawls."

Near handed it over without much expectation.

Immediately Matt came up with an answer, "The problem is the integral of x^j, if j is 0 then you're really just taking the integral of a constant right...HERE!" he said, pointing to the error, even though I said his personality was stupid in this chapter. It really serves my purposes for him to say this now, so Near and you should just let it go.

Near almost gasped, but didn't because that is sort of an emotional reaction and he is a monotone robot in this. "How could I have missed that? That means the whole thing is off. The plan to Kill L has no chance of success."  
"Welp, on the bright side... nope... we're totally screwed if we get all the way to L," Matt said, dejectedly as he put the calculation book on the endtable next to the phone.  
"We have to tell Mello."  
"Right. Tell him it's time for us to cheeze it and get out of here."  
"No. We can still kill the successor. He really deserves it for taking my spot away from me... I mean us."  
"And then L will need a successor again!"  
"Ring Mello, quickly," Near said in an urgent monotone.

Matt dialed his cell phone, and both were dismayed/blankly emotionless when the backpack next to their feet began to sing Mello's Livin' La Vida Loca ringtone.

"What is this fail-parade? Why can't anything go right?" Matt whined.  
"I will go to stop Mello," Near sighed. "Hide and then clobber the successor with a blunt object or something. Call me when you've tied him to the chair and I'll give you further instructions."

Near left his possessions behind and began to run back to the elevator. Seeing that the numbers were rising he knew that the successor was making his way up. He would have to exert himself a little bit more and run down at least a few flights of stairs.

* * *

As he haughtily opened the door to the room, Light's genius mind reached the conclusion that something was probably up just as he felt something blunt collide with the back of his head. He slumped to the floor in his still-stained pants, as bent table lamp unevenly rolled away.

"Ow! That really hurt!" the man yelled in Japanese.

"Oh shit! You're not out?" Matt replied in English.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?"

"I'm… uh…" Matt stammered in Japanese, "YOU! From the future!"

"You're obviously younger than me…" Light sighed at the pathetic attempt, "I'm calling security."

Just then Light noticed the black notebook with some white writing on the cover sitting by the phone and paled. When Matt saw him eye the revenge plans he quickly scooped up the book and attempted to hide it in his shirt.

"Where did you get that?" he rasped.

"IDK, it's my friend's. He just had it one day, I didn't ask."

"You're here to kill me?"

Matt sank to the floor in shame, practically giving up on life at that moment. The successor had figured him out already, no wonder L had chosen him instead of any of the Whammy kids. They were caught, he may as well admit it. But he didn't.

"I'm really just an accomplice."

Instead of yelling, Light smiled with calculated charm. "Please, don't," he said softly. It wasn't the response that Matt was expecting, given that he had failed so much. When he looked up, Light had already swished his way over and sat down next to him. When their eyes met Light made a subtle, yet easily thwarted move for the scribbler. Light pinned Matt down to the ground, but he held the notebook tightly in front of him, and Light attempted to pass the move off as seduction.

"What are you going to do?" Matt whimpered, expecting a beating at any time and hoping that they had videogames in juvie.

"I'll do anything," Light whispered in his ear, "Let's team up, you can be my accomplice, and I'll make you queen of the new world!"

"Er, America?"

"No, I mean -"

"Cause it's a deal!" Matt interrupted quickly.

"Yes. America. You will be queen of America," Light answered, salivating with desire to kill Matt.

"Sex was implied," Matt continued expectantly.

"Yes. Fine. We will do that too."

"Ok, but we have to do it right now to seal this thing."

"Fine, there's a bed over there," Light finally let Matt up and began to walk over to the bed.

It was only a few seconds after he turned that he was struck in the back of the head a second time with a much heavier lamp. This time he was out.

"Snappy one-liner, bitch!" Matt actually said to the unconscious body, unable to think of an actual snappy one-liner right now. The author left this here as a placeholder to fill later with a snappy one-liner that Matt could say, unless you are reading this. If you are then sorry! Let's go see what Near is doing.

* * *

Near the genius learned a new fact that day: That the doors leading from staircases back into the hallways in secure buildings sometimes require a pass code.

He began to run down seventeen flights of stairs one by one in order to find an unlocked door, or at least an exit.

After the fifth flight he was already developing an asthma attack from the exertion. He stopped just as his phone rang.

"Sup," Matt greeted.

Near just panted, unable to catch his breath.

"Creepy."

"Shut... up... dying," Near panted.

"What?"

"Stairs!"

"Oh. You fell down the stairs. Nice one. I'll come get you."

"No! Kill... Light!"

"I tied him up. The backpack only has a straightrazor and a radio left. Am I supposed to slice him to death, seriously?"

"No... You... listen to Stuck in the Middle with you... and threaten."

Matt turned on the little stereo and let it play the first song. It was Like a Virgin.

"Skip," Near said, catching his breath.

"No. Just tell me what to do next. He's still knocked out, by the way."

"Matt there's only four songs on that ipod. You'll probably get it next."

"All those songs are for movies I haven't heard of."

"It's just one movie. Now slap him awake."

Matt struck the side of Light's face, and he woke up groggily.

"What now?"

Near began to walk down the stairs at a brisk pace instead of running, "Dance to the song in a threatening way so he knows that you're crazy."

"No, thanks."

"Fine. Just douse him with petroleum."

"There isn't any petroleum."

"You can't take petroleum through airport security," Near stated.

"There might be, like, some petroleum jelly appearing out of thin air, this is defiantly _that kind_ of author. Oh wait. There's some baby oil on the nightstand..." Matt rolled his eyes, "for some reason."

"Use that."

"What the hell?" Light shouted as Matt squirted the baby oil all over him.

"Fine. What now?"

"You cut off his ear with the razor," Near monotoned. Matt, incredulous, was silent.

"Now, there will be blood. And the ear will not come off right away, there is a lot of cartilage," he continued as he neared the bottom floor, unaware of the bile rising in Matt's throat, "so you can't just hack, you have to pull the ear and pull the razor back and fourth while pushing downard with a constant force. Then-"

"You sure are good at telling people how to do things over the phone instead of actually doing them yourself!" Matt snapped in frustration.

"Thank you," Near said, taken by surprise by such a welcome and genuine compliment.

"What happens next in your movie, by the way?"

"Tim Roth shoots you and you die. But that won't happen, because Tim Roth isn't there. You will successfully set Light on fire and win."

"I see."

"I have to go. I can see Mello and I need to get his attention."

"Ok, I'll finish up here. Cheers," Matt finished.

They both hung up, with Matt fully set against any killing of anyone and intending to cheeze it on his own, if necessary, and Near fully cognizant of this fact.

* * *

**AN:** Hi, thanks for reading. It's getting close to the end! It sure looks like a major dong-show for the successors so far, but they'll be OK. As orphans, they're probably used to disappointment, and at least they'll have food in jail.

If you don't review they will defiantly end up in Oliver Twist forever. And if you _do_ review I'll probably keep writing this crap. Your move, bitches.

Also, thanks for you patience if you've been following this. Sorry for not updating. It turns out that I didn't feel like it. Actually, I have no excuse, but I do want to finish everything up.


	10. L, L, Bloody Hell Part 1

**11. L, L, Bloody Hell (Part 1)**

* * *

"Why are you in the staircase?" Mello piqued with annoyance and amusement when he saw Near flailing adorably for his attention.

"I became stuck in there when I tried to avoid the elevator. There was a passcode lock on each floor," Near answered simply in his slow, calculated monotone while Mello let him out. "You have not seen L yet?"

"I saw him go into the control room, but I got locked out. Matt said something about it being locked separately, so I need him to open it up for me, or I need to wait for L to just come out."

"No, I came here to tell you that our plan has failed, there's no chance of success. We need to get out of here."

"The hell, you say?" Mello growled, smouldering with revenge as Near pulled him stealthfully down the gleaming metal hallway by the sleeve. _Matt must have gotten to that little albino runt, and made him think that what we're doing is 'wrong'_, Mello decided.

"Let's hide in that closet, we'll call Matt from there, and sneak out," Near urgently stated, pulling Mello into a nearby storage area.

"And then go live the rest of our lives in failure? Not a chance, sheepy," Mello snapped in angry compliance, and pushing Near down to the floor of the darkened storage closet, "I can at least still kill Roger. That prick deserves it for burning down our childhood home and trying to send us away!"

"Everyone agrees that killing is always justified, Mello," Near placidly stated, not struggling in the least as Mello pinned his arms over his head, trying to bully a reaction out of him, although at this point everyone should know that Mello's bullying towards Near was just a cover-up for his abiding love.

"Right, as long as you win!" Mello countered, "But if you run away like a shriveling dick then -"

"You get away without having committed any real crimes except break-and-enter and forcible detainment," Near explained coldly, "And even if caught, you spend four years in juvie with no criminal record once you turn eighteen, instead of life in adult-prison for double homicide."

"Double?"

"I told Matt to finish killing the successor," Near stated, "But he probably won't do it. Even though Light deserves it for taking our spot as successor,"

"So, you're still all for this?" Mello gasped, stunned, hopeful, and aroused.

"Of course, we'll regroup and finish this later. But we can't just fly by the seat of our pants when things go wrong. It is_ not getting caught_ that separates us from criminals, not some kind of moral justification tripe."

"Oh Near," Mello sighed happily, "All of Matt's personalities would have been all like, 'Bla bla,_ moral tripe, you are so terrible, Mello!_' Near... that's why I lo-"

"Speaking of Matt - Let's call Matt so we can get out of here," Near interrupted, nudging Mello to get off him.

"He'll be ok, we'll call him from outside after we escape. That way we can threaten him that we'll leave him if he doesn't kill the successor. If Light's out of the way then L will need another successor!"

"Mello!" Near seemed hurt, even though Mello knew that he had already thought of it, "I don't want to leave Matt behind..."

"We're not. And what the hell, why are you so attached all of a sudden?"

"Because… I've fallen for him." Near stated this fact equably, but with a slight blush of embarrassment that Mello couldn't see in the dim light of the closet.

"What. The. Fuck?" Mello toned each syllable with utter bewilderment and disgust.

"It is only logical, Mello. He has everything, since his personality is so poorly defined. And yet, it is so much more than just logic... I feel something in the way that he playfully teases me over the phone, our shared love of quiet solitary pastimes, his kindness in the forest, his intelligence, and his looking out for us... I indicated my attraction by teasing back and complimenting his attractiveness by rating the boy who looked like him as very good-looking. Isn't it obvious that I was falling for him all of this time?" Near said softly.

"BULLSHIT! You're supposed to be in love with me, retard!" Mello screamed with heartbreak, rage, and anxiety to cheeze it.

"But, that does not make any sense. Despite your intelligence we have personality conflicts that can never be resolved."

"That just makes things hotter! Opposites attract! The cute nerd and the bad boy! Not _two nerds _fucking off to the Science museum together!"

Near almost smiled, thinking of spending a nice, quiet day with no fights or drama at the Science museum, but didn't actually smile because of his exaggerated robotic fanfic personality, "You are consistently mean to me. You physically assault and bully me constantly," he indicated, with Mello still on top of him, "You are physically assaulting me right now."

"You were practically slobbering all over me when you were drunk! And you admitted how great I am and my hair is."

"Attraction is not love, Mello."

"I was just about to awkwardly confess my love for you a second ago, fucker!"

"I know, and that was why I cut you off."

With that Mello slapped Near across the cheek, hard. The readers immediately forgave Mello for this abusive outburst. (Because Mello is pretty). And just as immediately they judged Near harshly for making Mello feel bad. (Because he is short and looks creepy.)

"Well, you can't be in love with Matt," Mello pouted, "Because he's already in love with me!" Mello stuck out his tongue childishly at Near and crossed his arms, feeling heartbroken, deflated, and stupid. "He was about to awkwardly confess to me on the way into the building before I cut _him_ off. So, nya!" he said and turned away.

"Wait? I love Matt, but he loves you, but you love me?" Near said, as though thinking.

Mello looked back at him. They continued to stare creepily at each other for about a minute before they both burst out in uproarious laughter at their stupid situation. The laughter continued until it turned to tears.

"Hahah, Oh my god," Mello giggled, wiping away a tear and holding his stomach.

"We're so badly written!" Near, uncharacteristically in stitches, went on.

"Let's get this shit over with before we all meet our evil twins from the moustache-universe."

"Oh my god! That idea practically writes itself!" gasped the author to herself.

"That's because it's already been written," Near explained, "Billions of times."

"Yeah, well, I'm going to spend the next ten hours on Tvtropes finding out how many times and what that trope is actually called… and then getting sucked into four hundred more pages," she sulked.

"Please finish this story some time before the heat death of the universe," Mello whined.

Suddenly, because Mello's such a bitch, light flooded the storage room. A dark slouched figure was silhouetted in the doorway.

"Found you!" L said, "I knew that the security footage had been tampered with and someone was in the building unauthorized."

Mello and Near gaped in shock at their mentor, who they had recently sworn to kill. It was their time, but the significance of seeing L in person for the first time in their lives, and being caught so suddenly, took them both by surprise.

"Oh," L said listlessly, almost to himself, "It's two of those orphans I used to own. Near and… Linda, I believe."

"What? I'm Mello!"

L looked puzzled, "I'm pretty sure there was no Mello."

"I'm, like, the #2 orphan!"

"Ohhhh. Wait, aren't you supposed to be a boy?" L questioned, in his calm direct manner, "Girls can't be successful in orphan-academy, they have cooties."

"I challenge you to a duel for my honour!" Mello shouted dramatically, with anger and apprehension.

"I'd really rather not," L said with his blunt, wide-eyed yet lifeless way.

"Too bad, asshole! And everyone knows that all girls have the clap! I'm a boy!"

Mello sprung to his feet, wielded his katana in several expressive stances, and pointed it dramatically at L, who took a defensive posture. The closet was exceptionally full of drama. Near tried to hide behind some crates, but he could not escape the drama.

With a yell of primal rage, and several other emotions, Mello charged forward, long blonde hair flowing behind him. Then, approaching his unmoving mark, sliced the air gracefully with his katana, just as L fell back into the hallway with a well-executed roll, evading him. When L came out of his curled up ball against the opposite wall he was met swiftly with a Katana blade pointed dramatically at his throat, and Mello stood above him, head haloed in florescent light, his face grim and powerful like a shogun, his hair wafting gently, even though there was no wind inside the building.

"You're beaten," Mello said stiffly, half-knowing that it couldn't be that easy.

L made no response, his eyes only darkened seeing the flinch in Mello's resolve, and with an impressive modified Shaolin butterfly kick from the floor, he propelled his young aggressor off his feet, sending him sprawling back into the closet. L leapt after him, attempting to end things with a punch before Mello regained his wind and his balance. However, as soon as he reached the inside of the storage room the side of his head was unexpectedly hit with a broom. Knocked to the floor, he sneezed from the dust, as Near dropped the cleaning utensil and attempted to scurry back to a safe hiding place before L could finish sneezing and allow his eyes to adjust to the dark, but L reached up and caught him blind by the tail of his costume's oversized suit coat and pulled the boy to the floor. When L's free arm moved to grab him around the neck Near instinctually bit the hand that threatened him, slipped free of the jacket, and scampered away as Mello recovered his katana.

L lept back to his feet, looking unperturbed with his hands full of empty jacket. He glanced back at his opponent across the small and cluttered space, returning to a covering stance suitable against the armed aggressor.

"You're finished, L!" The blonde boy darkly warned, clutching his stomach here L had hit him and shakily standing, bringing his sword back into stance.

They both knew that the fight was just beginning.

The scene was clearly too exciting, and also 2k words long already, so the author decided to end with a cliffhanger while begging for reviews and writing the second half.

* * *

**AN:** I promised this within a week, and I'll be gone for the long-weekend, so here you go. I'm going to go write Chapter 9 of Mellochistic, even though no one reviewed it.


	11. L, L, Bloody Hell Part 2

**L, L, Bloody Hell (Part 2)**

* * *

Let's cut back to Light and Matt.

"Why are you doing this?" Light asked in angry frustration, still tied to the chair, clothes a mess, covered in baby oil and coffee from earlier. Some of the oil was even in his hair, dribbling down his face like sweat, leaving a heavy residue. He was honestly more distressed about the mess than anything else. Light was that kind of narcissist jerk.

Matt thought that Light had already figured out the plan to replace him as L's successor, but wondered why he was asking questions. Fully set on not killing anyone for any reason, Matt thought that it was better to let on that he knew more than he did, and work out how much Light did actually know. That ought to increase their chance of getting the least amount of juvie possible. Matt was a better detective in this chapter than the other chapters, but I still have not really given him a personality.

"You know, why, you… Little bitch," Matt said, as menacingly as he could, trying to channel the slightly unhinged craziness/cold, creepy detachment of his friends. He wasn't sure if it worked, but the razor blade in his hand probably enhanced the effect.

"I'm not who you think I am!" Light said, struggling against the ropes.

"Who do you think I think you are?" Matt asked, probing, trying to sound cool yet dangerous.

"What?" Light was now incredulous as to whether or not this kid was working for someone with his own death note and knew that he was Kira, or just (a slightly unhinged, yet detached) random crazy person. There were many black notebooks in the world, so it wasn't necessarily a Death Note in her hands. But what other reason could someone have for killing him other than being Kira? And how would such unworthy opponents find that out that he was Kira unless they used were smarter than L (Impossible), or they used their shinigami eyes, or their their shinigami told them?

"You're a bad person. And I was sent here to get rid of you." Matt tried to recover.

"Get rid of me, how?"

"With our master plan," Matt said, pretending to be confident in the pan and in himself, even though the plan was a piece of shit and he was wondering how long his sentence in jail would be, "With this," he clarified holding up the notebook, that Light could now see was marked in English, "TOP SECRET" on the front and on the back "Property of Mello, do not touch!"

_'So did the kid have a death note or not?'_ wondered Light. If she had been a Shinigami-eyed dupe, like would explain why she had to capture Light: In order to find out his name. But why did she bother to tie him up instead of just writing the name? Perhaps the Mastermind who ordered the torture was just being vindictive in that way, or perhaps the idiot had never written a name and believed the rule that she wouldn't get to heaven if she used the note book.

Yes, that could be it, Light decided, "I'll be frank for a moment. I know that you are scared to kill me. Let me go, and I will let you live and work with me, and we will kill your boss using the notebook."

"What?" Matt yelped.

"Think about it, even if you do kill me, and even L, you will still never be Kira. You just don't have what it takes since you don't want to kill anyone," Light avoided rolling his eyes, instead adding softly, "You're too kind and gentle," with all of his charm he continued, "If your boss had what it took, he'd torture me himself instead of sending his girlfriend. Is that any way to treat such a sweet young lady?" Light asked with his most seductive lady-charming smile. As the rope in his hands loosened, he found it easier and easier to smile.

"What the hell? I'm a boy!" Matt said yelled angrily, just realizing that he was still wearing the stupid shorts and wig costume that Near and Mello gave him so that he could look like a movie he hadn't watched. Matt and the readers can be forgiven for forgetting that he was wearing a costume like Mello and Near because it happened three chapters ago. And it's just Matt.

"That actually makes it a little hotter for me" Light replied honestly, "Also, your 'boss' will defiantly kill you when he has no use for you. But I'd never let you come to harm. And I'll give you the world… I mean America."

Then, suddenly, the gears of Matt's genius mind ground into action. "Kira?" Why would he think that I want to be Kira? Or I'm killing him and L to be Kira… "Oh my god! You're Kira!"

"You mean you didn't… Why are you trying to kill me then?"

"Stop fucking up my intimidation, you big jerk!"

"You are the only one doing that," Light responded.

"Look, it doesn't matter why we were here and trying to kill you. I promise to leave, and not kill you, and not ever tell anyone you're Kira," he went on, crossing his fingers on the last part because he was fully intending to tell L and the others that Light was Kira, "and live out the rest of my life in poverty and obscurity in an Oliver Twist workhouse back in time with my hopefully-boyfriend and some little tag-along guy, if you just forget about this and don't put us in jail!"

Light sighed and didn't ask Matt to elaborate on his very specific self-punishment, "Cut the ropes, kid. It's a deal."

"Fine, but you have to keep your word and come with me while I get my friends out. And don't double cross me." Matt obeyed hesitantly and was instantly pushed over as Light ran out of the room.

Everyone saw this coming. The only point of question was whether or not he would try to quickly change his messed up Gucci slacks on the way out or not. He didn't because this is getting pretty long already.

What a shit-show, Matt. Now it's Near and Mello time.

"You're finished, L!" Mello shouted, as he pointed his katana at his adversary.

L, holding Near's jacket listlessly returned, "You already said that."

Mello began charging toward him with the tip of his sword at the ready in answer while L waved the jacket like a matador teasing a bull. Mello sliced it nearly in half, but missed his real target, who jumped out of the way sideways and taunted again. For a second time, Mello charged, but this time he missed the jacket completely and was tripped, landing against a crate and pushing it up against the wall.

"Ow," Near complained from the other side of the crate. Mello had almost squished him.

"Near, maybe if you could do a goddamn thing for yourself, I'd do a better job taking care of your ass," Mello lectured, as he got up once more.

"Do you want me to take over, Mello?" Near monotoned, crawling up the stack of crates as Mello and L circled each other looking for openings.

"I'd like to see you try!" Mello called out towards the crates, as Near peaked out at him, seemingly out of it, looking around the room at the slapdash stacks of boxes, and shelves lining the room with their jars and jars of candy.

"And if I do a better job, you won't just get angry, and sad, and also a third emotion that is kind of a wild card?" Near quizzed, darting from one hiding place to another to keep up with the conversation as the tense stalemate of a fight continued.

"You're a 90-pound, uncoordinated asthmatic who sits inside the house on his ass all day," Mello answered as he launched an easily parlayed attack towards L just because he felt like there hadn't been enough action in the past few sentences. The sword swung wildly through the air with a swish that even sounded sharp, but L was too quick, and still very much in the spirit of a matador, finding some amusement (but mostly annoyance) in his situation.

"Fights can be won with brains instead of brawn, Mello."

"But mostly with weapons," Mello finished, brandishing his sword with pride in winning the argument, chocolate-cravings, and security in his tactical advantage.

L flung the torn jacket like a whip at Mello's sword as the blonde was distracted, wrapping it with cloth and making it harmless even as it sat in his adversary's hand. Mello hadn't known that L knew how to do something like that. He pulled his hand back instinctively, drawing L closer to administer another kick to the face before Mello could react.

He staggered backward instinctively, tripping himself on the broom that that Near had used to bean L on the way into the storeroom. Luckily, he didn't hurt himself with the sword as he fell, but the broom intertwined with his legs and hurt his shins. L wasted no time in jumping Mello and grappling with him to repossess the sword. On the floor, he realized that L tripped him on purpose - he wasn't only masterfully improvising, appropriating things from his environment for his advantage - He was planning and seeing several moves ahead, like a chess game!

L, the larger and frankly better of the two, won the grapple for the sword easily, although Mello was able to get back to the other side of the room unscathed.

"God damn it, Near. I get it now. Team up time, let's get it over with," Mello yelled, as he watched Near playing with some candy and looking around with boredom.

"I've had just about enough of this odd-couple bullshit from you two. There will be absolutely no team-ups," L wearily demanded, pointing Mello's sword at both of them.

The blonde grabbed his helpless friend protectively, and began backing away from the armed man. But the younger seemed calm, and intent on walking around with a large jar of colourful little sourballs like nothing was wrong and no one was defiantly going to stab them. Indulging him, because it was easier than restraining him AND defending, Mello began the slow creep along the perimeter, followed at every step by L, who was intent on not letting them near the exit. Near seemed preoccupied with the broom, and as he reached it, he handed the jar to Mello.

L's eyes widened, "Damn it, no!" he managed to yell, as Near suddenly stabbed the cleaning utensil into the base of the tottering stack of boxes he'd surveyed earlier, causing it to topple, forcing L to jump backward and avoid being hit.

Near grabbed Mello's hand and pulled him roughly towards the middle of the room, taking back his jar, he hurled it onto the ground in front of L, shattering the glass and sending sourballs rolling everywhere.

He made for the exit with Mello in tow, sliding the broom along the shelves and causing a whole row of the jars to shatter and spread their contents, along with broken glass, onto the hard floor. When they were out of the room, they closed the door behind them and Near handed Mello the broom.

Mello was able to process what happened almost instantly, "Of course. He was barefoot! It's totally dark in there with the door closed, and the broken glass and candy will keep him from being able to get out quickly. He's still going to get out eventually, though. We gotta cheeze it."

"Yes, now we call Matt and get out of here," Near agreed.

"That win back there was mostly me, by the way," Mello interjected.

"I'll let you come up with the plan on what to do with the rest of our lives then," Near sighed.

Back upstairs, Matt was chasing after Light. His phone rang, but there was no time to answer it. Mello and Near would defiantly have to know the new news that Light was Kira - that would change everything. But the phone call could mean that they were already out.

"He's not answering," Near informed Mello.

"Oh shit," Mello whined, "is this going to be a scene where we all run around the whole god damn building chasing and looking for each other?"

"Yes," answered me, the author.

"NO!" disagreed literally everyone.

"It says that in the outline," I told them.

"This chapter is a frigging monolith of tl;dr!" Mello berated me.

"Fine."

After a rousing 5-way chase scene that would have been very fun, yet predictable, the characters all ended up in the control room, except for Matt. Things were not looking good for Near and Mello, who were attempting to find Matt on the security system, as Light and L had cornered them. L still had the sword, and Light looked pissed off from not being able to change out of his ruined clothes.

"Just give up now," Light said in an even tone.

"No fucking way! I am WAY too pretty for jail or juvie! You're going to have to kill us!" Mello screamed casually.

"I don't want to die, but I'm also too pretty for juvie. I'll hold out and be a bother as well."

"Near, It's not cute when _you_ say that," Mello berated complacently.

"I really don't feel like dealing with another contrived fight scene," L sighed, "But…I do have a bit of a spiteful side, and I seek revenge for my previous loss," he decided, jumping into an intimidating stance and menacing with his katana.

Near and Mello's blood ran cold as they braced themselves for a more mismatched two-on-two fight.

Just then the control room door burst open to reveal the climax.

"Wait just one moment," an unfamiliar aged voice rang out from behind L. A moustachioed old man in a smart tuxedo could now be seen, and behind him was none other than Matt.

"Mr. Whammy?" Near questioned incredulously.

"Alfred! I mean… Wattari!" L cried, dropping his sword and then throwing his arms around the old man, "You're not dead after all!"

"Dead?" Wattari questioned.

"I found him in the [think of a place later, it's an obvious ass-pull anyway, or don't, the readers will just think that you're making fun of them with such a crappy and obvious concept anyway. Failure.]" Matt said. "Anyway, that doesn't matter now. Light is Kira!" he yelled.

"I know." L said, in his creepy blank way.

"But… you solved Kira!" Mello stated with confusion and worry.

"Yes, I did."

"But –" Mello started.

"Misa Amane is Kira," L and Light both said in unison, "We thought that there might have been a primary Kira but it turns out that she worked alone," they continued, still scarily in unison.

"Oh, of course," Near realized, addressing Light, "You fell in love with L half-way through and made a deal to blame Kira on some girl you hate so that you could be the World's Greatest Detective successor instead of just use magic to kill people and turn that into a career somehow."

"Pretty much." Light agreed, "You jealous?"

"Yes!" Near moaned.

"Good, because we're better than you in every way. No one has ever gone to Syrian kid-prison that I just made up as much are you three are going to Syrian kid-prison that I just made up now, chumps," Light gloated over Near.

"This shit isn't fair, you only want him as your successor because you're dating," Mello shouted at L, full of teenage angst.

L shrugged, "Well, I'm sure that you orphans might have an inkling that life isn't fair."

"Now, L," Wattari chided in a fatherly yet subservient manner. It was his last line in the story, and was immediately ignored because he is an old man and not pretty at all.

"Plus you're harbouring the most prolific murder since Pol Pot!" Matt shouted, annoyed that no one else had brought that little fact up.

"Matt is right." Near said indifferently, suddenly full of confidence and love for Matt, "And that makes you our bitch."

"Yeah," Mello suddenly smirked, while Matt blanched, "You wouldn't want that little fact to get out. "

"How are you going to prove it?" Light rolled his eyes.

"I set the phones to record everything," Matt answered sheepishly.

"There's no way!" Light yelled, his look shifting from put-together to gobsmacked freaky grapenuts, "You can't just pull something out of your ass that changes everything like that at a climax!"

"Welcome to this series, jackass," Mello quipped with amusement, derision, and anger, "I guess everything went _exactly-"_

"Exactly as planned," Near cut him off, wanting to be the one to say it. Mello, with a mix of rage, disappointment, and admiration for Near, pushed Near down and was immediately forgiven by the readers.

"THERE IS NO WAY THAT YOU PLANNED ALL OF THAT," Light screamed with a dramatic spaz-gesture, flipping out in that way that he does when he gets beaten by children.

"Favourite children," L said, "Let's make a deal. I am impressed that you were able to form a plan, travel all of this way, find our secret headquarters and take out two of us before I foiled you. Perhaps Light, Wattari, and I can use out infinite money and connections to set something up, since there are only three of you to deal with."

"Awesome!" Mello said, helping Near up.

"What about our revenge? L turned out to be a bad person, and we're letting him just go on and friggin' marry Kira because we don't have to go to workhouses anymore?" Matt whined, "It's like we came all this way for stupid self-interest and pettiness instead of justice!"

Everyone in the room stared at him blankly/creepily/intimidatingly/crazily/old man-ishly for a moment, wondering what was wrong with Matt for believing in justice.

Near, somewhat less in love with Matt, indifferently and curtly reminded, "We told you. We're morally ambiguous."

"Well, this has been interesting," L said, "Let's go resolve everything and get you three out of our lives. I've got cases to solve and people to marry."

And with that, they headed to the end of the story, finally.

"Matt," Near said to get the redhead's attention while grabbing the hem of his clothing as they walked. When Matt looked at him, he just looked away and toyed with his hair awkwardly for a moment before saying, "I was going to awkwardly confess my love for you, bu-"

"Not going to happen, Near," Matt said, pulling away, "I'm already in love with Mello."

"Yes, I know, and he is in love with me," Near rolled his eyes at the stupid situation before they all burst out laughing again.

"Ok, Ok." L chuckled, "I'll solve this along with everything else. Mello and Matt, you date each other."

"What about me?" plied Near.

"No one cares. You can be forever alone or part of some stupid heterosexual beta-pairing with some crap female OC."

"Hahaha! A girl," Mello laughed, vindicated, disappointed, and brimming with triumph over Near, "Enjoy your syphilis, loser."

"Syphilis is not the clap, Mello, and neither is cooties," L corrected him, "What are they teaching you for sex-ed at orphan academy?"

"I don't know," Mello heaved with boredom, disgust, and some sarcasm, "Something about STIs, and girls. I zoned out whenever I heard the word 'vagina'. I was like 'What the fuck, I'll never need this.' Girls will give you the clap was the gist of it."

"Stupid romance: Resolved. Now come on and we'll figure out what to do about the rest of your dumb lives, since you can't live with me and L," Light ordered.

"Don't listen to them. Date me in addition to Matt, I just… really crave your approval," Mello whispered to Near, with a mix of discomfiture, contentment, and daddy-issues. Matt totally heard this, but he was OK with it, because I didn't really write about his thoughts toward Mello in this chapter. The romance was not resolved, Light can go eat it. There is still one more chapter.

* * *

**AN:** I promised this within a week, but I failed. Sorry.

Please review it. I am going to reedit the previous chapters later, and I will probably take any suggestions! New chapter is soon, keep reading if you want to know what the kids get to do for the rest of their dumb lives.

I haven't named and shamed my reviewers in a while. Thanks DarkAngelJudas, Tailsdoll123, Lectorem, Inky-Shadow, CharizardCyndi and Florence Pinky-Poo for reviewing. Thanks to those that faved and subscribed too. See you soon with the conclusion.


	12. The End

**Everything is Better Now (Or _IS_ it? [yes])**

* * *

The three orphans, at the end of their adventure, were just making their way out of L's building, back into the streets of Japan. They were already dressed for their new lives in order to really drive home the point that everything had changed and life would never be the same again. Mello had exited first and was waiting for Near and Matt, who was last to get his assignment and be kicked out.

"Mello!" Matt called out, now super in love with Mello. According to fanfics, this is a personality trait. (Or at least enough of a personality trait for Matt, who isn't that well defined a character.)  
"Oh hey, guys. I can tell by your little work-costumes that you are a professional nerd and a professional dork," Mello said, brimming with contempt and glee, and several other emotional emotions.  
"I'm a game designer!" Matt yelled happily. Let's pretend he was playing a game while he was saying this, since that is a personality trait we know that he has.

But let's also not overdo it on the personality traits. It's just Matt.

"It's pretty awesome because I can do it wherever Mello decides to live!"  
"That's awesome, Matt. It means that we can make out all the time, and that is what I am all about in these fics!"  
"What about you, wait let me guess… You're a chocolate chef themed male stripper!"  
"What?" He sputtered with disgust, anger, and some pride, "I'm a regular chocolate chef! L has me training under the chocolate Zen masters of Hershey trained in the art of chocolate." He continued, "I LOVE CHOCOLATE!" because, you know. Mello.  
"Oh." Matt blushed, somewhat less in love with Mello, but still pretty in love with Mello.  
"I'm a professional Lego builder," Near smiled coolly, " I'll be working at Legoland under the Southern California Lego Zen masters trained in the art of Lego. I am being trained to specialize in Lego robotics. Lego!"  
"No one cares, Near!" Mello shouted with delight. Just delight. It was one of his incongruous word/actions towards Near, not an illustration of his freaky emotion problem.

"Wait a minute, guys!" Matt said, "if you're going to Hershey, Pennsylvania and Legoland, California, then we can't all live together!"  
Already kind of over Matt's new personality, Near stated, "I am fine with tha-"  
"Oh my God, you're right, Matt!" Mello gasped, getting all up on Near.  
"Well, if it's so important to both of you, we could go on another adventure. All of the other orphans from Whammy House probably need to be rescued from whatever became of them," Near sighed lethargically.

"I'm not doing that adventure!" wrote the author.

"Oh, all right. Let's just all go to our dream jobs then," Near said, already gone. He was pretty excited about Legoland.  
"Call me!" Mello shouted after him.

"I don't know what that was about, usually he's the one in love with you in these things."  
"I KNOW, right? That was what I said. I'm sure he's just shy, he just needs some 'non-consensual sex acts' in order to come around, usually."  
"WOA! Not cool, Mello…. Just…just.. wow." Matt eased, "We are trying to keep this rated T."  
"What? He loves it in these fics. And I didn't even say the R-Word. 'Surprise sex'. 'The old please don't hide the-'"  
"Stop!" Matt yelled covering his ears, super uncomfortably. The T-rating was pretty fucking tenuous at this point because of all the language anyway. Shitshitshitboobies. There, now it's gone. Goodbye only T-rated fic out there by me. Actually, never mind - everyone knows that ratings are self-selected anyway. More like, say hello to all my T-rated BDSM-tinted smutfics.

"Hello, I'm back." Near said, somewhat un-indifferent (different?), "I thought about what you said for the past 10.2 seconds about 'staying together' and I have calculated that, perhaps instead of more awkward run-around and unrequited crush on Matt, and you… r-wording me, _talking rationally about_ the possibility of being a real part in each others' lives increases the probability of the idea working out by 24%." He looked away uncomfortably twisting his hair.

Matt and Mello shifted uncomfortably, with either mixed emotions or love for Mello, depending on which one you are looking at.

"Or maybe not, what do I know? I am supposedly 'socially retarded' in these fics," he said rolling his eyes (like a little smartass social retard). "Even though I am supposed to be a genius with an almost supernatural ability to guess people's motivations," he complimented himself. "Look, since we have learned so much together in the past few days, and have no one else in the world who cares at all for us, the only home we've ever known that's burned down, and a hero who wants to send us away and marry Kira, I feel a potential for a possibly lifelong connection with both of you as friends or conceivably even more. I am unsure of how to ask this, or what it would mean, but perhaps we could go on a few… er… dates?" Near continued hopefully apathetic, "Not that I know how dating in our situation would work, but the uniqueness only further engenders the need for clear-eyed conversation, rather than avoidance, in my opinion." He finished, fingering his hair on both sides now with extremely nervous impassiveness.

"Near…" Mello started, "Not cool."

"Were my advances too awkward?" He almost blushed, but didn't, because he is a monotone robot in this. Oh ok, he did blush, actually, because he had switched from robot to super-uke fanfic-mode. He was blushing so cutely, you guys!

"More like: Not awkward enough!" Matt answered.  
"Oh my god, you just diffused the sexual tension with your bullshit rationality!" Mello shouted.  
"I don't understand. I'm sorry?"  
"Your goddamn right you're sorry. God damn it, Near!"  
"God!" Matt added.

No one spoke for a while. They were super annoyed with Near for diffusing the sexual tension. Super.

"That is the only reason anyone reads these things," explained the author needlessly. "How am I supposed to get them together after this disaster? No one in fanfic has ever started a relationship with dates, or even gone on a date. Clear-eyed discussion? God damn it, Near," and continued, "Why did I write that?"

"This is awkward," Near stated.  
"It's not your fault. You didn't know that relationships **_ideally_** start when one party voraciously jumps the other and just starts making out without warning or permission," Mello continued for him.  
"Right! Or just up and moves in with the other person without regard to the practical aspects of what will happen for everyone if things go south." Matt agreed.  
"Or shows up with a gun at their workplace," Mello added.  
Near sighed, "I just don't think that's a very good idea. We are all very complex people…"  
"A-hem," interrupted Matt.  
"…except for Matt," Near continued as Matt nodded in agreement. "Anyway, we obviously have complex and differing desires and expectations, which is why I even asked to get to know you better."  
"And if you were actually in love with us, you would already know our complex desires and expectations. Telepathically. And you would _change your's_ in accordance to our's," Matt lectured. "Like I do with Mello."  
"I don't think that's a healthy-"  
"We'll call you." Mello said, running away, but fully intending to send a shirtless-in-the-bathroom-mirror pic to Near later anyway. It was another one of his incongruous word/actions again.

Matt, in love with Mello, followed because he was basically going to follow him anywhere and do anything for him. If this were an anime he would have grown metonymic doggy-ears for a minute that illustrate his devotion. But it is not, so please imagine it in a way that kind of works for you. Up to, and including, not imagining it at all. This is what I'm personally going to go with.

I guess the lesson here is self-sacrificing bitchery is a good way to show your love, according to these fics. That and the R-word. Those are actually pretty damn terrible lessons, and I don't think that you should use them in your lives ever. Seriously. EVER.

And so, in the end, L married Kira and made him his successor, even though he was Kira. Matt and Mello became the best game designer and chocolate-chef, respectively, and made out all the time. And Near remained forever alone. (Until he got to Legoland and made many wonderful friends who were totes into robots, Lego, and rationality too, and they taught him many important life-lessons.)

I guess that if that is not good enough for you, eventually, everyone joined up again to have a more unambiguously happy ending in a place with chocolate, Lego, games, _and_ mysteries. Let's say: Denmark. Nice.

In either scenario Roger totally died - Of alcohol poisoning. (He was drinking pretty constantly through all of this, in case you hadn't noticed.)

The end. :D


	13. Bonus chapter: EMO Interlude

This is a bonus that I published between chapters 'Now they are in Japan' and 'Not a very good chapter'.

Now it is at the end because it was breaking up the flow and people stopped reading.

.

.

.

* * *

I know that I just updated yesterday but I made this sad little excuse for an interlude to show my commitment to being dumb.

Wanna see what Matt is dreaming? NO? Read on anyway. Or don't. You don't have to read this because it doesn't matter to the plot.

This is a sad interlude. Do not laugh at their pain, ok? And don't miss the last chapter.

* * *

**EMO Interlude**

* * *

His eyes were bleary. It didn't matter, he knew his work by muscle memory. A skill honed by mashing buttons, acquired for amusement, now a cold comfort to a bitter existence.

He was cold, but somehow sweating. Lifting his Bakers Boy cap to wipe away the sweat, Matt paused in his task to regard his cold, numb fingers, if only to see that they were still there.

"Oh God, how bony they've become," he mused.

"'Eh! Slackoff! Get back ter work, ye filthy urchin!" The foreman barked, cracking his child-whipper above Matt's head, "Or 'ere'll be no gruel for ye supper t'night."

"Oh God," Matt mused again,_ still_ not knowing if he was back in time, or what the fuck, "Why does he talk like a pirate?"

* * *

This was a different room than the one his social worker had seen, but he was told he'd be beaten if he recounted that fact.

The water stain on the ceiling above his bed indicated 2.4 years of leakage. He would have to watch out when it rained. The white paint was stained amber near the top, signs of heavy smoking by his reprobate roommates. Four beds in a small room. This was defiantly against court regulations.

These were clues in a very boring mystery. "How much does this place suck?"

He calculated 94%.

"Look at that shrimpy new kid," one of the delinquents said to another as he picked Near up by the collar.  
"Shit. Is that a book he's got?" the larger scoffed. Both were at least as large as two Mellos strapped together, twice as mean, and less than half as smart.  
"Christ, fagot, quit tryin' to better yourself!" The one holding him said, punching him in the stomach, "That's gay."  
"Reading? Why is reading homosexual?" He cried, trying to kick at his aggressors or escape.

The thick-skulled thugs appeared to think for a moment. It appeared that their tiny brains might smoke and catch fire, but then the less moronic one answered, "Because it's gay."  
"That's a tautology," said the mouth that was promptly punched shut.

As they were beating him despair washed emo-ishly over his existence.

It was a tautology. They didn't even care.

* * *

"Why are you dressed like a Soviet-themed male stripper?" Said a different kid in Russia. This is a different scene.  
"Because I dress like the male stripper version of whatever I am trying to be," answered the blonde with menace, defeat, and ennui.  
"The soviet era ended about 20 years ago."  
"Yeah, I know." He rolled his eyes, "I'm a genius."  
"Aren't you cold?"

He was actually pretty cold.

"Well, we have uniforms anyway."  
"Sucky," Mello sulked, kicking some snow that his boot had tracked in. "So do you want to be my enemy?" he asked hopefully, with a cautious mix of emotions.

"Well, our life here pretty much sucks, and we're in a pretty remote area. So we all try to get along."  
"Do you get chocolate here?"  
"Uh, like maybe at Christmas."

************************* One ten minute long scream later **************************

"So, what do you do for fun?"  
"Be orphans. Live in crushing poverty. You can read a bit, but the books are pretty outdated, and you'll have to wait. There's a TV they let us watch on Wednesdays."  
"Do you have vodka?"  
"Like, barely any."  
"Do you want to make out?"  
"I already said no."  
"Oh, I meant to ask that after we had some vodka. God, this is the suckiest orphanage in Siberia, isn't it?"  
"Well, it's in the top two, but hey, at least we aren't in the even worse orphanage a few kilometers away! They don't even have blankets there."  
"Wait. You mean that this is the _second_ worst orphanage in Siberia?"  
"Well, Siberia is kind of an ill-defined region, but –"

After another ten minutes of screaming the kids all tried not to talk to Mello anymore.

He was totes bored forever, and didn't have any chocolate.

* * *

That just didn't fit in anywhere, so it's a 'bonus'.

I don't know who's dreams all of these are, but let's just say that they are Matt's.


End file.
